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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A .  KOFOID  AND 

MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


THE    PORTAGE. 


CITY  BOYS  IN  THE  WOODS 


OR 


A  TRAPPING  VENTURE  IN  MAINE 


BY 


HENRY  P.  WELLS 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  AMERICAN  SALMON-FIsnERMAN 
"FLY-RODS  AND  FLY-TACKLE  "  ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW    YORK  AND  LONDON 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS    PUBLISHERS 


v    U.^t: 


Copyright,  1889,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 


All  rigliti  reserved. 


TO 
JOHN    S.    DANFORTH 

OF  PARMACHEENE  LAKE,  MAINE 

IN  MEMORY  OF  THE  MANY  HAPPY  DAYS  IN  WHICH 

PACK  ON  BACK,  WE  HAVE  WANDERED  TOGETHER  THROUGH  THE  WILDERNESS 

WHEREIN  THE  SCENE  OF  THE  FOLLOWING  PAGES  IS  LAID 


<Jf)is  Book  is  JDcbicateb 

BY 
HIS  SINCERE  FRIEND 

THE  AUTHOR 


qs't 


to 


ojj: 


PREFACE 


T)OOKS  of  hunting  and  trapping  adventure  for  the  young  are  su- 
*-*  perabundant.  But  whence  do  most  of  them  derive  their  inspi- 
ration ?  Certainly  not  from  nature.  The  toils  and  privations  which 
are  the  certain  and  continuous  daily  incidents  of  such  a  life  are  usu- 
ally glozed  over  or  ignored  altogether,  while  purely  imaginary,  or 
at  best  very  infrequent,  cases  of  good-fortune  are  grouped  together 
and  follow  one  another  as  though  of  every-day  occurrence.  The 
impression  so  produced  on  the  minds  of  the  young  is  an  absolutely 
false  impression.  That  it  is  pernicious  as  well,  the  police  records  of 
every  large  city  bear  witness.  Hardly  a  week  passes  in  which  lads, 
beguiled  by  such  books,  are  not  arrested  on  their  way  to  kill  Ind- 
ians and  hunt  buffaloes  in  the  far  West. 

This  book  is  the  outcome  of  a  suggestion  that  a  story  truthfully 
portraying  the  actual  life  of  the  hunter  and  trapper  would  be  time- 
ly. The  author  has  succeeded  or  failed  in  his  purpose,  in  the  exact 
proportion  in  which  he  succeeds  or  fails  in  impressing  on  the  minds 
of  his  readers  the  truth  that  a  special  education  is  as  necessary  to  a 
life  in  the  wilderness  as  it  is  to  navigate  that  other  wilderness — the 
boundless  ocean. 

H.  P.  W. 

New  York,  September,  1889. 


ffi313170 


CONTEXTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

DEPARTURE.  — ARRIVAL. —  A  HUNTING  TRIP  IN  THE  FOREST. — DISCOURAGEMENT.— A 
CHANGE   OF  PLAN Page  1 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  FOOD  QUESTION  AND  ITS  SOLUTION. — FRIENDLY  ADVICE.— INTO  THE  HEART  OF 
THE  WILDERNESS. — DEER. — THE  TIMID  MULE.— THE  "BIG  RIP." — THE  FIRST  CAMP. 
— SUPPER.  —  "  IT  WOULDN'T  HAVE  BEEN  A  BAD  IDEA  IF  WE  HAD  TAKEN  A  FEW 
LESSONS  IN   COOKING." — SLEEP.— THE   NIGHT  ALARM  11 

CHAPTER  III. 

BREAKFAST. —  THE    TRAPS    ARE    SET. —  PASSING     THE    "BIG    RIP." — DISASTER. —  JOHN 

DANT,    THE     TRAPPER. "HE    WHO    AIMS    ALL    OVER    [AN     ANIMAL]     DON'T    STAND 

MUCH   CHANCE   OF   HITTING  ANYWHERE   IN   PARTICULAR.".  26 

CHAPTER   IV. 

TO  THE  SCENE  OF  DISASTER. — THE  CAUSE  OF  THE  NIGHT  ALARM.— RUNNING  A  RAPID. 
— NOTHING  SAVED  FROM  THE  WRECK. — "WHAT  SHALL  WE  DO?" — A  TIMELY  IN- 
VITATION.—THE  "TIMID  MULE"  AGAIN. — A  HINT  ON  TRAPPING. — POLING  UP  THE 
"BIG  RIP" 37 

CHAPTER  V. 

PREPARING  FOR  A  TRAMP.  —  LAYING  OUT  A  SABLE  LINE. — TRAPPING  SABLE  AND 
FISHER 52 

CHAPTER  VI. 

LUNCH  AT  THE  LITTLE  RIVER. — CAMP-FIRES  IN  THE  WOODS.  —  THE  CARIBOU. — LOST. — 
HOW  A  WOODSMAN  FINDS  HIS  WAY  IN  THE  FOREST. — A  DEER-ROAD  AND  TRAIL...   70 

CHAPTER  VII. 

HACK  AT  DANT'S  CAMP. — MOOSE-TALK. — A  HUNTING  ADVENTURE. — ATTACKED  BY  A 
MOOSE 88 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THROUGH  THE  WOODS  INTO  CANADA. —  HARD  TRAVELLING. —  THE  BOUNDARY  LINE 
BETWEEN  THE  UNITED  STATES  AND  CANADA. —  ARRIVAL  AT  THE  BOG.— A  SHOT 
AT  A  DEER 107 


vm  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

RIFLE -SHOOTING  AT  GAME. — HABITS  OF  DEER.— THE  BOG  CAMP. — VISIT  FROM  A 
SKUNK.— HOW   THE    NORTH-EASTERN   BOUNDARY  LINK   WAS   LOCATED Page  125 

CHAPTER  X. 

TRAILING    A    WOUNDED    DEER. —  "A    CRACK    SHOT." — ENCOUNTER   WITH    CARIBOU. A 

DEAD  DEER. A   DEER-SLED.— A   TUMP-LINE. — COASTING    ON   A   DEER 142 

CHAPTER  XI. 

VENISON. — THE  TRAPPER'S  REFRIGERATOR;  ITS  LOCK  AND  KEY. — BEAVER. — BEAVER 
DAMS. — BEAVER  FOOD. — THE  BEAVER'S  HOUSE. — THE  BEAVER'S  FOOD-PILE. — THE 
BOAT   THIEVES 159 

CHAPTER  XII. 

BEAVERS'  WORK.— BEAVERS'  TEETH. HOW  BEAVERS  FELL   TREES. — BEAVER    CANALS. 

— THE  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE  OF  THE  BEAVER. — HABITS  OF  THE  BEAVER.  — A 
CHANCE  ENCOUNTER.— THE  TRAPPER'S  FRUIT -TREE.— TRAPPING  BEAVERS. — SET- 
TING  BEAVER-TRAPS. — THE    FRONT-LEG   SET. THE    HIND-LEG   SET. —  MIDWINTER 

TRAPPING 1/8 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

MOOSE -CALLING  PROPOSED  AND  ABANDONED. —  THEY  TRY  JACK-HUNTING. —  AN  UN- 
FORTUNATE ENCOUNTER. — "GOOD  GRACIOUS  !    WHAT  DID  YOU  DO  THAT  FOR?"   201 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  WOODSMAN'S  AXE  AND  ITS  DANGERS. — AN  ACCIDENT.—  "  GRAB  IT,  THERE'S  BUT- 
TONS ON  IT!" — MOOSE -CALLING.  —  THE  TRAPPER  CALLS.  —  A  MOOSE  AT  LAST.— A 
STARTLING   ENCOUNTER 217 

CHAPTER  XV. 

RETURN   TO   THE   LAKE  — "TIT   FOR    TAT." THE    TRAPPER    LECTURES   ON    CARIBOU. 

APPEARANCE  OF  THE  CARIBOU. — HABITS  OF  THE  CARIBOU. —  THE  CARIBOU'S  CU- 
RIOUS   TRICKS    ON    THE     ICE.— FOOD   OF    THE    CARIBOU. A   TRIAL     OF    SPEED.— A 

CHASE   ON   SNOW-SHOES.— A    CARIBOU   HUNT 240 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

STORM-BOUND. — PLANS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. — THE  TRAPPER  COMMENTS  ON  LIFE  IN  THE 
WOODS.— THE   BOYS   RETURN   HOME 267 


ILLUSTRATIONS, 


PAGE 

A  Wayside  View 3 

Forest  and  Field 6 

The  Last  of  Civilization 7 

The  River 8 

The  Last  House 9 

The  Starting  Place 12 

Buying  Supplies 15 

The  Boat 17 

Head  of  Cow  Moose 20 

On  the  River 21 

Another  Bend 22 

An  Abandoned  Camp-fire 23 

The  "Big  Rip" 27 

They  proceeded  "to  Wade"  the  Boat 

Up-stream 29 

In  the  Trackless  Wilderness 31 

The  Forks 32 

"  Are  you  Mr.  Dant  ?" 33 

A  Trapper's  Camp 35 

Snowed  in  for  the  Winter 39 

On  the  Trail 41 

A  Screech-owl 42 

Above  the  Forks 43 

Miles  of  Swamp  and  Trackless  Forest.  45 

Poling  up  a  Rapid 47 

Running  a  Rapid 49 

In  the  Woods.  . 53 

A  Forest  Highway 57 

A  Weasel  and  its  Victim 59 

A  Spring-pole 63 

A  Mountain  Brook 64 

An  Otter  and  her  Young 65 

A  Turbulent  Mountain  Stream 71 

Escaping  from  a  Forest  Fire 73 

A  Burnt  Forest 77 

"  Where  the  Wind  has  Raked  through 

the  Trees  " 80 

A  Peculiar-looking  Place 81 

On  the  Little  River 82 

Along  the  Bank  of  the  Stream    83 


PAGB 

An  Obstacle  to  Travel 85 

A  Lone  Fisherman 86 

Still-hunting  Moose 89 

Head  of  Bull  Moose 93 

Moose  at  Bay 95 

Our  Meat 97 

Following  an  Elk  Trail 101 

An  Anxious  Moment 103 

A  Long  Shot 105 

A  Group  of  Elk 109 

"We'd  better  Lunch  here  and  Rest 

for  an  Hour  " 112 

A  Lumber  Works 113 

A  Lumberman's  Bivouac  ..." 116 

The  Trail  of  the  Lumberman 119 

Good  Travelling 121 

A  Monarch  of  the  Forest 127 

In  Wait  on  the  Bog 129 

Skunk 131 

The  Bog  Valley 133 

A  Trapper's  Cabin 135 

In  the  Boundary  Range 137 

On  the  Way  to  the  St.  Lawrence  ....  140 

Overlooking  the  Bog  Valley 143 

On  the  Bog  Stream 146 

Camp  in  the  Woods 147 

A  Tenant  of  the  Bog 148 

' '  We  Camped  near  a  Pond  about  Four 

Miles  from  here  " 151 

The  Edge  of  the  Woods 153 

Head  of  the  Bog  Stream 155 

Below  the  Bog  Camp 161 

A  Beaver  Dam 165 

The  Stone  Dam 170 

Beaver  Houses 172 

In  an  Old  Beaver-works 175 

Cut  Surface  of  Birch  Log 179 

Chip  cut  by  Beaver  (natural  size) 180 

Beaver's  Skull 181 

Beaver  Teeth  (half-size) 181 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

Birch  Log  cut  by  Beaver 183 

Beavers  at  Work 185 

Beaver's  Tail 187 

Beaver- trap 189 

Setting  a  Beaver-trap 193 

Ground-plan  of  Beaver-trap 197 

"After  the  Snow  begins  to  Fall" 203 

Home  of  the  Deer 207 

Hunting  by  Moonlight 209 

A  Likely  Place  for  Game 211 

Over  a  Beaver  Dam 214 

Between  the  Lake  and  the  Forks 221 

' '  There's  about  Five  Miles  of  those 

Rapids— in  places  very  Nasty". . .  .  223 

Dropping  down  a  Rapid  on  Poles 225 

"Made  me  Wish  I  was  back  at  the 

Lake  " 227 


PAGK 

Moose-calling 229 

Movement  of  the  Horn  in  the  Moose- 
call  232 

Moose-hunting  by  Jack-light 235 

When  at  length  the  Lake  appeared  . .  243 
"  They  are  Spring  Ponds,  and  mighty 

Cold" 245 

Head  of  a  Bull  Caribou 247 

Head  of  a  Cow  Caribou 251 

Caribou  on  the  Ice 253 

In  Luck 255 

Return  from  Caribou-hunting 263 

"Instantly  Everything  is  in  Confu- 
sion"   269 

"The  Thermometer  'way  below  Zero 

and  the  Air  filled  with  flying  Snow  "  273 
The  Last  View  of  the  Wilderness 275 


Head  and  Tail  Pieces  to  each  Chapter. 


CITY  BOYS  IN  THE  WOODS 


CHAPTER   I. 


Departure.— Arrival.— A  Hunting  Trip  in  the  Forest. — Discouragement.— A  Change 

of  Plan. 

TT^VERYTHING  has  a  beginning — a  rule  to  which  this  story  is 
-*-^     no  exception. 

The  events  of  which  it  is  the  history  arose  from  the  following 
incident : 

Two  middle-aged  gentlemen,  Mr.  Henry  Hildreth  and  Mr.  Rich- 
ard Halstead,  sat  facing  one  another  in  the  library  of  the  latter  one 
pleasant  evening  in  early  October.  It  needed  but  a  glance  at  the 
two  gentlemen  to  convince  the  most  careless  observer  that  they 
were  men  of  mark  among  their  fellows.  Indeed,  in  wealth  as  in 
social  position  and  influence  they  stood  second  to  none  in  the  city 
in  which  they  lived.  They  had  been  school-boys  and  college  chums 
together,  and  the  love  and  confidence  in  one  another  which  had 
then  arisen  had  never  diminished  nor  grown  cold. 

"  So  you  think  we  had  better  let  them  go,  Harry  ?"  said  Mr. 
Halstead. 

"Yes,  I  am  inclined  to  think  so,"  replied  his  companion.  "I 
have  talked  the  matter  over  with  my  boy,  as  you  have  with  yours ; 
and  though,  of  course,  we  can  forbid  them  going,  I  don't  think  we 
1 


2  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

can  talk  the  idea  out  of  their  heads.  The  boys  have  been  brought 
up  so  far  by  persuasion  rather  than  force,  and  that  plan  hasn't 
worked  so  badly  that  I  am  inclined  to  change  it  now.'  If  their 
hearts  are  really  set  on  this  trapping  expedition  after  all  we  have 
said  to  them,  as  certainly  is  the  case,  why  not  let  them  try  it '.  If 
they  gain  nothing  else,  they  will  surely  get  an  idea  of  the  rough 
side  of  life,  which  will  do  no  harm  to  boys  brought  up  never  to 
know  what  it  is  to  want  a  meal  or  to  sleep  on  anything  harder  than 
a  spring-bed." 

"Very  well;  we  will  consider  that  settled,  then,"  said  Mr.  Hal- 
stead.  "  They  are  tough  and  strong,  fair  swimmers,  and  used  to 
fire-arms;  so  I  hardly  think  they  will  be  likely  to  get  into  any 
scrape  so  serious  that  they  cannot  pull  through  it  somehow.  But 
as  they  are  following  their  own  judgment  rather  than  ours,  don't 
you  think  it  would  be  wise  to  give  them  a  fair  start  ?  Then,  if  the 
trip  does  not  turn  out  quite  as  they  expect,  they  will  have  but  them- 
selves to  blame." 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Hildreth ;  "  that  is,  let  them  say  how 
much  money  they  wish  to  complete  their  outfit  and  how  much  to 
take  with  them,  and  let  them  have  it,  if  not  altogether  unreason- 
able. But  except  in  that  respect  I  should  leave  them  entirely  to 
their  own  devices." 

So  the  boys,  who  bore  their  fathers'  names,  received  permission 
to  go. 


The  rail,  a  wagon,  and  time  brought  Dick  Halstead  and  Harry 
Hildreth,  with  their  effects,  to  the  margin  of  the  Maine  wilderness. 
Seventeen  years  old,  well- grown  and  able-bodied  for  their  age, 
their  minds  inflamed  by  much  reading  of  hunting  and  trapping 
books,  they  had  at  last  their  hearts'  desire,  and  the  region  and  the 
life  for  which  they  had  so  long  sighed  now  lay  close  before  them. 
But  how  different  is  a  view  obscured  and  mellowed  by  distance 
from  the  same  scene  close  at  hand !  At  home  but  the  main  feat- 
ures of  the  enterprise  had  attracted  their  attention,  and  these 
seemed  simple  and  easily  provided  for.     Now  a  thousand  and  one 


ARRIVAL.  5 

practical  and  hitherto  unsuspected  details  obtruded  themselves, 
each  petty  in  itself,  but  upon  which,  they  had  still  the  sense  to  see, 
hung  the  success  or  failure  of  their  expedition.  It  was  like  an 
army  preparing  for  a  campaign.  The  dullest  may  recognize  that 
centres  where  many  roads  meet  are  the  points  of  importance,  upon 
the  occupation  of  which  depends  the  power  to  make  every  man 
available  in  time  of  danger,  and  even  with  a  smaller  army  always 
to  outnumber  the  enemy  at  the  actual  point  of  attack.  This  to 
many  appears  to  be  all  there  is  in  the  art  of  war.  But  between 
the  army  and  the  places  it  should  occupy  lie  streams  and  rivers  to 
be  crossed.  A  single  storm  may  convert  the  solid  earth,  churned 
by  thousands  of  wagons  and  a  numerous  artillery,  into  a  quag- 
mire. Yet  despite  every  obstacle  the  men  must  be  fed  three 
times  a  day,  their  ammunition  must  attend  them  closely,  provision 
must  be  made  for  the  care  and  transportation  of  the  sick  and 
wounded,  and  a  hundred  other  contingencies  must  be  provided  for 
which  tax  to  the  uttermost  the  foresight  of  the  ablest  com- 
mander. 

And  so  the  boys  found  it.  They  thought  they  had  planned 
their  campaign  with  judgment  and  skill.  Now  they  found  that 
few  of  their  plans  extended  beyond  the  edge  of  the  apparently 
interminable  forest  which  spread  before  them,  unbroken  except  by 
the  hand  of  Nature  almost  to  the  St.  Lawrence  River.  Another 
hour  would  bring  them  not  only  to  the  small  and  scattered  settle- 
ment which  here  formed  the  outpost  of  civilization,  but  even  to  the 
end  of  the  last  wagon-road.  The  time  for  action  was  at  hand,  yet 
they  knew  not  what  to  do.  In  their  dilemma  they  appealed  for 
assistance  to  the  driver  of  the  wagon  that  bore  them.  He  advised 
them  to  stop  at  a  certain  farm-house,  the  last  in  the  settlement,  until 
they  had  time  to  look  around  them  and  decide  what  wTas  best. 

They  concluded  to  do  so  for  that  night,  and  then  to  camp  just 
within  the  edge  of  the  wroods,  so  as  to  rely  on  the  settlement  for 
such  food  supplies  as  the  town  alone  could  furnish,  and  to  hunt  and 
trap  on  foot  through  the  forest.  They  soon  learned,  however,  that 
the  settlers  and  their  boys  had  trapped  and  hunted  the  immediate 
neighborhood  so  closely  that  they  must  either  go  much  farther  into 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


the  wilderness  or  give  up  all  hope  of  a  successful  trip.  If  room  for 
doubt  still  remained,  one  day's  tramp  in  the  woods  proved  beyond 
question  that  a  change  of  plan  was  necessary. 

They  set  out  in  high  spirits,  the  one  with  a  double-barrelled 
breech-loading  shot-gun,  and  the  other  with  a  Winchester  rifle  upon 
his  shoulder.    Both  carried  ammunition  enough  for  a 

week's  campaign,  for  what  #u,  burden  could  be  more  use- 


less than   an  empty  gun  ? 

UK 


A  large  sheath -knife,  gor- 


FOREST    AND    FIELD. 


A  DAY'S   TRAMP   IN  THE   WOODS.  7 

geous  with  red  leather  and  German  silver,  and  a  heavy  revolver 
hung  from  the  waist-belt  of  each.  To  what  use  these  could  be  put 
for  which  their  guns  and  pocket  jack-knives  would  not  better  serve, 
they  neither  stopped  to  think  then  nor  when  they  drew  so  heavily 
upon  their  treasury  to  buy  them.  Were  not  the  hunters  and  trap- 
pers of  the  books  always  so  provided  ?  With  these  things,  and 
food  for  one  meal,  they  entered  the  forest. 

How  little  the  reality  resembled  their  anticipations !  Where 
were  the  great  trees  with  the  pleasant  shady  lanes  between  their 
gray  trunks  that  the  boys  were  accustomed  to  in  vacation  rambles 


THE    LAST    OF    CIVILIZATION. 


in  the  country?  Not  here,  at  all  events.  Forest  and  shade  they 
found  in  plenty,  but  the  pleasant  lanes  were  altogether  wanting. 
Fallen  trees  lay  in  every  direction,  the  larger  crushing  the  smaller 
to  the  earth  in  their  descent,  their  roots  and  branches  mingled  to- 
gether in  an  almost  impassable  tangle.  Bushes  and  saplings  threw 
out  their  stems  almost  parallel  with  the  ground,  each  a  trap  to 
catch  one's  feet  and  throw  him  headlong.  Large  roots  ran  along 
the  surface  of  the  earth  as  slippery  as  if  greased,  and  many  were 


8  CITY   BOYS   IN    THE   WOODS. 

the  tumbles  they  occasioned.  When  a  soft  carpet  of  moss  prom- 
ised easier  walking,  the  boys  found  that  it  but  covered  loose  stones 
and  roots,  among  which  was  hidden  many  a  pitfall.  At  every 
few  feet  was  a  tree  trunk  to  be  climbed  over  or  crawled  under ;  or 
if  they  worked  their  way  out  of  the  timber,  it  was  but  to  fare  even 
worse  in  an  alder  swamp.     It  was  heart-breaking  work. 


THE  RIVER. 


DISCOURAGEMENT. 


9 


After  some  four 
hours  of  this  labor 
the  boys,  stream- 
ing with  perspira- 
tion and  bruised  by 
many  a  fall,  halted 
to  rest. 

"Well,  Dick," 
said  Harry, "  I  have 
had  about  enough 
of  this  sort  of  thing. 
What  do  you  say  ?" 

"  I  don't  think 
there  is  much  use 
in  going  any  far- 
ther," replied  Dick. 
"  We  make  too 
much  noise  to 
get  near  anything 
worth  shooting, 
and  I  don't  see 
how  we  can  go  any 
more  quietly :  do 
you  ?" 

"No,"  said  Har- 
ry ;  "  and  besides, 
it's  clear  we  can't 
break  our  necks 
and  scratch  our 
eyes  out  through 
this  stuff  every 
day,  and  accom- 
plish anything 
trapping,  either. 
We  can't  cover 
ground  enough.     Let's  go  back  to  the  settlement  and  get  a  boat 


THE  LAST   HOUSE. 


10 


CITY  BOYS  IN  THE  WOODS. 


and  take  to  the  river.  We  can  hunt  and  trap  along  that,  and  carry 
everything  we  have  with  only  the  trouble  of  rowing." 

"  I'd  rather  row  twenty  miles  than  walk  one  here,"  replied  Dick. 
"  But  the  boat  will  cost  a  good  deal,  and  we  may  run  short  of 
money  to  get  home  with  if  we  buy  one." 

"I  suppose  we  can  hire  one,"  said  Harry ;  "and  even  if  we  have 
to  buy,  we'll  have  furs  and  moose  and  caribou  hides  enough  when 
we  come  back  to  make  us  all  right  so  far  as  money  is  concerned." 

Fortunately  a  range  of  hills  on  one  side  and  the  river  on  the 
other  confined  the  boys  to  a  rather  narrow  strip  of  country,  and 
though  they  wandered  from  the  shortest  line  considerably,  they 
reached  the  settlement  at  last,  bruised  and  weary  in  body  and  dis- 
couraged in  mind. 


CHAPTER  II. 


The  Food  Question  and  its  Solution. — Friendly  Advice.— Into  the  Heart  of  the  Wil- 
derness.—Deer.— The  Timid  Mule.— The  "  Big  Rip."— The  First  Camp.— Sup- 
per.— "  It  wouldn't  have  been  a  bad  idea  if  we  had  taken  a  few  lessons  in  cook- 
ing."— Sleep. — The  Night  Alarm. 

THE  bright  morning  sun  brought  fresh  hope  and  courage  to  the 
boys  with  the  new  day.  The  river  headed  somewhere  up  near 
the  Canadian  boundary.  They  would  inquire  about  it,  and  try  to 
hire  a  boat.  Then  there  was  the  question  of  provisions,  for  hereto- 
fore they  had  lived  with  a  settler.  What  would  they  need  %  Per- 
haps the  keeper  of  the  solitary  little  store  might  know.  They 
would  consult  him. 

He  did  know.  How  long  were  they  to  be  gone  ?  Six  weeks  ? 
The  store-keeper  figured  upon  a  sheet  of  wrapping-paper  for  a  few 
minutes  with  a  very  stubby  lead -pencil,  and  then  reported  as 
follows : 

"  They  would  need  84  pounds  of  flour,  20  of  pork,  21  of  butter, 
32  of  maple-sugar,  16  of  white  sugar,  16  of  canned  milk,  21  of  hard 


12 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


tack,  16  of  oatmeal,  3  of  tea,  a  large  box  of  matches,  a  small  bag  of 
salt,  and  a  package  of  pepper." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  much  for  tea !"  exclaimed  Harry.  "  Let's  have 
coffee  instead ;  and  besides,  we  ought  to  have  some  potatoes — say  a 
bushel  or  a  bushel  and  a  half.  I've  heard  there  is  nothing  one 
misses  in  the  woods  so  much  as  potatoes.  And  onions — onions  are 
first-rate,  and  they  won't  let  me  eat  them  at  home.  Say  half  a 
bushel  of  onions.  And  then  we  ought  to  have  some  beans.  I  have 
heard  there  is  lots  of  hard  work  in  beans — say  eight  or  ten  pounds 
of  beans.     And  then  there's  rice — " 


"  Hold  on,  Harry,  for  gracious'  sake,"  interrupted  Dick,  taking 
alarm  from  a  broad  grin  which  was  gradually  overspreading  the 
leathery  face  of  the  store -keeper.  "We  don't  want  to  keep  a 
restaurant.  Let's  draw  a  line  at  the  beans  until  we  see  how  much 
weight  we  have  already  bargained  for.  How  many  pounds  of 
coffee  will  we  need — twelve  ?  Well,  wait  a  moment,  and  I'll  figure 
how  much  everything  will  weigh."     He  did  so. 


HUNTING   PROBABILITIES.  13 

"  Good  gracious !  over  three  hundred  pounds  of  provisions ! 
How  are  we  to  carry  these  and  all  our  other  things  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"When -people  are  going  into  the  back  country  trapping,"  the 
store-keeper  answered,  "  they  generally  spend  quite  a  while  before- 
hand in  carrying  their  food  and  traps  to  where  they  think  game  is 
likely  to  be  plenty,  and  in  distributing  them  about.  It's  now  the 
10th  of  October,  and  you  ought  to  begin  to  trap  on  the  15th.  You 
will  have  a  pretty  good  load,  but  I  guess  you  can  get  all  your  stuff 
and  yourselves  into  a  boat,  if  it's  big  enough." 

"  But  we  intend  to  hunt,"  said  Harry.  "  We  heard  that  there 
were  lots  of  moose,  deer,  and  caribou  in  these  woods.  Can't  we 
depend  some  on  hunting,  and  take  less  of  these  things  ?  We  came 
up  here  to  rough  it.     We  don't  care  for  many  luxuries." 

"  Well,  boys,  I  guess  you  will  find  it  rough  enough  to  suit  you, 
no  matter  what  you  take,"  replied  the  store-keeper,  with  a  smile. 
"  Game  is  plent}7  enough.  But  hunting  is  one  thing,  finding  is  an- 
other, and  to  kill  game  when  found  is  another  thing  still.  The 
game  in  this  country,  or  in  any  other  that  I  ever  heard  of,  does  not 
come  up  to  the  hunter  hollering  to  be  shot.  Until  the  ground  is 
well  covered  with  snow  you  can't  get  through  these  woods  without 
making  noise  enough  to  frighten  every  animal  within  half  a  mile" 
(the  boys  looked  at  one  another,  but  said  nothing),  "and  as  the 
woods  are  too  thick  as  a  general  thing  to  see  an  animal  over  about 
thirty  yards,  I  don't  think  your  chance  of  any  very  fat  living  at 
their  expense  is  really  first-rate." 

"  Then  you  think  we  will  not  be  able  to  find  much  game  ?" 
said  Dick. 

"  Not  unless  you  should  happen  to  catch  an  animal  at  the  water, 
I  should  say,  and  at  this  season  of  the  year  they  don't  come  down 
very  much.  At  any  rate,  I  would  not  advise  you  to  depend  on  it. 
The  allowance  I  have  given  you  is  just  what  those  who  trap  for  a 
living  take,  and  you  may  depend  upon  it  they  take  in  all  the  chances 
at  big  game  that  come  along." 

The  boys  adjourned  for  consultation,  and  while  still  hoping  for 
much  better  luck,  wisely  concluded  to  follow  the  store  -  keeper's 
advice,  provided  he  would  agree  to  buy  back  such  supplies  as  they 


14  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

did  not  use.  Not  only  was  this  easily  arranged,  but  he  rented  them 
a  boat  as  well.  They  learned  from  him  that  there  was  good  boating 
for  thirty  miles  up.  There  they  would  find  the  *k  Big  Kip,"  a  rapid 
they  would  have  to  "  carry  "  round.  Above  that  were  other  rapids, 
but  they  could  pass  them  in  the  boat.  Thirty-three  miles  up,  the 
river  forked.  Here  he  advised  them  to  establish  their  camp,  for 
above  that  were  five  miles  of  successive  falls  and  quick-water  to 
where  the  main  river  emerged  from  a  lake. 

u  Above  the  Forks,"  said  the  store-keeper,  "is  John  Dant's  coun- 
try, where  he  lives  the  year  round.  Nobody  else  ever  traps  there. 
John  is  a  real  good  fellow,  and  knows  his  business  as  well  as  any 
man  living.  He  wouldn't  care  much  for  what  you  would  catch,  but 
he  would  care  a  good  deal  for  what  you  would  prevent  him  from 
getting  by  tramping  about  the  country.  He  is  up  there  now,  and  it 
may  be  as  well  for  you  to  know  how  to  find  him  in  case  anything 
happens  and  you  need  help.  A  plain  trail  comes  out  on  the  west 
bank  of  the  east  branch  of  the  river  about  three  hundred  yards 
above  the  Forks.  This  will  lead  you  to  his  camp  on  the  lake.  You 
can't  miss  it.  You  will  find  him  almost  any  Sunday.  At  other 
times  he  may  be  away  on  his  trapping  lines." 

In  the  first  gray  of  the  next  morning  the  two  boys  loaded  the 
boat,  and  taking  the  oars  in  turn  every  half-hour,  proceeded  up  the 
river. 

Neither  had  ever  seen  such  a  stream.  Beyond  the  settlement  it 
entered  the  forest  like  a  tunnel,  but  little  wider  than  an  average 
city  street  from  house  to  house.  The  water  was  dark  brown,  slug- 
gish, and  apparently  bottomless.  The  abrupt  banks  were  too  high 
to  enable  them  to  look  into  the  surrounding  woods.  Fallen  trees, 
which  storms  or  the  washing  away  of  the  banks  had  thrown  into 
the  water,  were  passed  at  every  few  yards,  some  mere  skeletons, 
some  looking  as  though  they  had  met  their  fate  within  the  hour, 
while  others  leaned  out  over  the  stream  tottering  to  their  fall. 

For  some  two  hours  they  rowed  on,  always  hoping  that  in  the 
next  of  the  many  bends  of  the  stream  they  would  see  large  game, 
and  keeping  as  silent  as  possible  that  no  act  of  theirs  might  give 


BUYING  SUPPLIES. 


INTO   THE    HEART   OF   THE   WILDERNESS. 


17 


it  alarm  and  lose  them  a  shot.  As  turn  after  turn  was  passed 
without  result,  expectation  gradually  changed  into  hope,  and  hope 
gave  way  to  discouragement. 

"  This  is  not  what  you  would  call  a  really  cheerful  watercourse, 
Harry,"  said  Dick,  at  last. 

"  Keminds  me  of  the  river  Styx,"  replied  Harry ;  and  relaxing 
the  caution  of  which  they  were  both  heartily  tired,  they  began  to 


THE   BOAT. 


talk  freely.  It  was  just  too  soon.  On  opening  the  very  next  reach 
of  the  river,  while  Harry  was  in  the  middle  of  an  earnest  harangue, 
there  were  a  splash  and  a  crash,  and  a  buck  and  doe  vanished  from 
a  small  grassy  cove  into  the  woods.  Owing  to  repeated  changes 
from  oar  to  paddle,  Harry's  rifle  was  then  with  Dick  in  the  stern 
of  the  boat,  and  Dick's  shot-gun  near  Harry  on  the  rowing  seat. 
Warned  of  danger  as  the  animals  must  have  been  by  the  noise 
2 


18  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

the  boys  made  before  they  came  in  sight,  even  had  each  seized  the 
weapon  in  reach,  it  is  doubtful  if  he  would  have  had  time  to  fire 
except  perhaps  at  random.  But  instead  each  jumped  for  his  own 
gun,  meeting  midway,  and  almost  spilling  themselves  and  all  their 
possessions  into  the  river.  By  the  time  they  were  ready  to  fire,  the 
animals  were,  by  a  moderate  computation,  about  a  mile  away. 

At  noon  they  landed,  ate  a  cold  lunch  brought  from  the  settle- 
ment, and  were  soon  off  again.  The  river  now  changed  in  appear- 
ance. An  alder  swamp,  dotted  with  elms,  seemed  to  extend  with- 
out limit  east  and  Avest  from  either  bank.  Some  current  was  now 
felt,  and  the  stream  narrowed  and  grew  shallower.  Through  this 
they  rowed  hour  after  hour,  until  it  seemed  as  though  the  end  of 
the  swamp  had  been  lost.  They  were  now  not  only  depressed  in 
spirit,  but  weary  in  body  as  well,  and  labored  on  in  silence. 

Bounding  a  sharp  bend  of  the  stream,  Dick,  wrho  was  steering, 
exclaimed,  "  Harry,  just  look  there  !  What  do  you  suppose  that 
big  mule  is  doing  'way  up  here  ?" 

Harry  turned.  There  sure  enough  was  the  long  head  of  a 
brown  animal  furnished  with  enormous  ears  staring  at  them  over 
the  bushes,  not  twenty  yards  away.  The  boys  stared  at  the  ani- 
mal, and  the  animal  stared  at  the  boys.  Then  like  a  flash  it  dis- 
appeared, and  they  heard  it  crash  through  the  bushes  in  flight. 

"  That  was  a  mighty  timid  mule,  Dick,"  said  Harry,  at  last. 

"  I  wish  I  was  as  sure  about  the  mule  as  I  am  that  we  are  a 
couple  of  asses,  Harry.     I  believe  that  was  a  moose." 

"  A  moose !     Why,  it  didn't  have  any  horns." 

"  Cow-moose  don't  have  horns.  Why,  we  must  be  nearly  thirty 
miles  from  the  settlement.  How  could  any  tame  mule  get  through 
all  the  woods  and  swamps  between  here  and  there  ?  I  tell  you  it 
was  a  cow-moose  ;  I  feel  sure  of  it.  AVe've  had  our  chance,  and 
lost  it  like  a  couple  of  idiots.  It  makes  me  sick.  Everything 
seems  to  go  wrong  somehow.  Let's  camp  at  the  first  good  place. 
I  guess  the  Forks  will  wait  for  us  until  to-morrow." 

At  the  head  of  the  next  bend  they  saw  a  wide  pool,  into  which 
the  river  fell  in  quite  a  heavy  rapid.  At  the  foot  of  the  pool 
was  a  small  grassy  island.     They  concluded  they  had  reached  the 


THE    FIRST   CAMP.  19 

"  Big  Kip."  An  abundance  of  drift-wood  was  lodged  on  the  upper 
end  of  the  island ;  so  with  wood  and  water  close  at  hand,  and 
plenty  of  grass  for  a  bed,  a  better  camping-place  could  hardly  be 
hoped  for. 

Their  tent  was  soon  pitched.  The  next  thing  was  a  fire  and 
supper.  Assured  by  an  obliging  dealer  that  a  camp  stove  (in  which 
a  lot  of  joints  of  stove-pipe,  pots,  kettles,  and  plates  were  packed 
like  a  Chinese  puzzle)  was  indispensable  to  their  welfare  in  the 
woods,  they  had  bought  it.  An  axe -head  and  its  handle  were 
hunted  up.  How  they  wished  they  had  put  them  together  be- 
fore !  but  it  was  no  use  to  think  of  that  then. 

"  You  put  on  the  axe-head,  Harry,  and  I  will  set  up  the  stove, 
and  try  and  make  some  bread  or  slapjacks.     Which  shall  it  be  ?" 

"Oh,  slapjacks  are  good  —  that  is,  if  you  know  how  to  make 
them ;  and  we've  got  plenty  of  maple  sugar.1" 

"  I  have  never  tried,"  said  Dick,  "  but  I  suppose  it's  easy  enough. 
It  wouldn't  have  been  a  bad  idea  if  we  had  taken  a  few  lessons  in 
cooking  before  we  left  the  settlement,  but  I  never  thought  of  it." 

"  No  more  did  I ;  but  I  guess  we  will  get  along  somehow,'' 
replied  Harry. 

It  was  a  longer  job  than  they  thought  to  get  the  axe  -  head 
fitted ;  but  it  was  done  at  last.  Then  Harry  advanced  to  the 
pile  of  drift-wood  with  all  the  confidence  of  youth  and  inexperi- 
ence. He  had  seen  others  chop,  and  it  seemed  so  simple  that  no 
doubt  entered  his  mind  but  that  he  could  cut  all  the  wood  they 
needed  in  a  very  few  minutes.  He  attacked  a  log  about  six  inches 
through.  He  chopped  and  rested,  and  chopped  and  rested  again. 
Do  what  he  would,  he  could  not  make  the  axe  strike  twice  in 
the  same  place.  Then  he  strove  to  make  up  for  lack  of  skill 
by  force  of  muscle.  At  last  he  gave  it  up.  The  log  looked 
as  though  a  rat  had  gnawed  it,  but  it  was  still  far  from  cut 
through. 

"  Oh,  Dick !  if  Ave  had  only  brought  a  saw !  An  axe  isn't 
good  for  anything,  anyway,  except  to  split  wood  with.  I've  been 
doing  my  best  at  this  log  for  nearly  half  an  hour.  At  this  rate 
we  won't  get  wood  enough  for  supper  before  morning." 


20 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE    WOODS. 


"  Never  mind,  Harry ;  try  some  of  the  small  limbs.  They  will 
be  better  for  the  stove,  anyway." 

Thus  a  fire  was  at  last  had.  In  the  mean  time  Dick  had 
mixed  up  some  flour,  water,  and  salt,  which  he  fondly  thought 
would  make   his  "slapjacks."     He  greased  the  frying-pan  with  a 


HEAD   OF   COW   MOOSE. 


piece  of  pork,  filled  the  teapot  with  water,  threw  into  it  a  hand- 
ful of  tea,  and  put  it  on  the  stove. 

"  It  will  be  dark  soon,  Harry.  We  ought  to  have  brought  a 
lantern.  We  shall  have  to  make  some  kind  of  a  camp-fire,  or 
we  sha'n't  be  able  to  see  anything  in  a  little  while." 


THE   FIRST  ATTEMPT  AT   COOKING. 


21 


Everything  else  was  dropped  for  this.  They  wasted  no  time 
with  the  axe,  but  pulled  from  the  heap  of  drift-wood  such  pieces 
as  they  could  handle,  piled  them  together,  and  after  much  trou- 
ble made  them  burn.  Then  the  cooking  was  resumed,  for  they 
were  now  as  hungry  as  wolves.  Dick  poured  a  charge  of  his 
flour  paste  into  the  frying-pan,  put  it  on  the  stove,  and  both 
watched  the  result  with  breathless  interest.  The  mixture  began 
to  solidify.     Dick  picked  up  one  corner,  as  he  had  seen  the  cook 


s»i 


ON   THE   KIVER. 


do  at  home  in  making  buckwheat  cakes,  and  studied  the  under- 
side. It  did  not  look  very  hopeful,  but  it  might  eat  better  than 
it  looked,  so  he  turned  it  over  to  give  the  other  side  a  chance. 
Soon  that  too  seemed  to  have  had  all  the  fire  it  could  well  stand, 
and  the  so-called  slapjack  was  put  on  a  tin  plate. 

"  We  might  as  well  eat  it  while  it's  hot,  Harry."  So  the  boys 
divided  it,  dosed  it  with  maple  syrup  made  from  their  sugar,  and 
began.  The  first  bite  was  enough 
as  leather,  the  inside  was  perfectly  raw 


Though  the  outside  was  hard 


22 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE    WOODS. 


ANOTHER   BEND. 


"We  must  have  cooked  it  too 
quick;  we  must  use  a  slower  heat," 
said  Dick.     And  so  they  Avent  on 
experimenting,  first   in  one   direc- 
tion and  then   in  another,  with  a  hot  fire,  with  a  moderate  fire, 
and  with  a  weak  fire.      But  do  what  they  would,  the  result  was 
simply  uneatable,  for  of  the  necessity  of  baking-powder,  or  some- 


A  FEW   EXPERIMENTS. 


23 


thing  of  the  kind  to  make  the  flour  rise,  they  were  utterly  igno- 
rant. 

Suspicious  now  of  everything,  they  tried  their  tea,  It  had 
boiled  down  till  it  was  as  bitter  as  gall. 

"  It  seems  to  me  I  have  seen  tea  made  by  heating  the  water  and 
then  putting  the  tea  in,"  said  Dick.  "  Suppose  we  try  it  that  way, 
and  not  put  in  so  much  V 


AN    ABANDONED   CAMP-FIRE. 


"  I  am  ready  to  try  anything  different  from  what  we  have 
tried,"  said  Harry.  "  I  had  no  idea  there  was  any  trouble  in  cook- 
ing such  simple  things  as  we  have.  If  you  took  the  rest  of  the  slap- 
jack mix,  and  thinned  it  down  well  with  water  and  then  boiled  it, 
don't  you  think  it  would  have  to  cook  ?" 

"  We  might  as  well  try  it,"  replied  Dick.  "  We  will  have  to  do 
that,  or  bod  some  potatoes.  There  can't  be  any  secret  in  boiling- 
potatoes.     Do  you  think  there  can?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Harry.  "  I  should  have  said  there  was 
no  secret  in  making  slapjacks.  The  flour  will  be  quickest ;  so  let's 
trv  that," 


24  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

So  they  tried  the  flour.  The  result  was  burned  considerably, 
and  though  it  did  not  pamper  their  appetites  much,  still  it  could  be 
swallowed.  They  began  camp  about  five  o'clock.  It  was  nearly 
ten  before  they  had  finished  eating.  ISo  dishes  were  washed. 
"  Wouldn't  they  have  to  be  used  again  in  the  morning  ?" 

With  hearts  like  lead,  and  in  perfect  silence,  the  boys  folded  up 
their  coats  to  serve  as  pillows,  and  rolled  themselves  in  their  blank- 
ets within  the  tent  for  the  night.  Tired  as  they  were  from  their 
long  day's  work,  sleep  came  but  tardily  to  their  relief.  It  was  all 
so  strange,  so  lonely !  Except  for  the  roar  of  the  river  in  the  rapid 
above,  no  sound  could  be  heard.  Even  the  wind  was  still.  But 
fatigue  at  last  overcame  their  despondency,  and  they  slept.  How 
long  they  had  slept  they  could  not  tell,  when  a  shriek  rang  out 
through  the  quiet  night  which  brought  the  boys  into  a  sitting  post- 
ure in  an  instant.  Dazed  by  their  sudden  awaking,  each  could  ask 
the  other  in  startled  whisper,  "  What  was  that  ?"  but  neither  could 
reply  or  indeed  assign  a  cause  for  the  horror  which  thrilled  him. 
That  something  dreadful  had  happened  they  knew,  since  it  had 
aroused  them  both  ;  but  what  it  might  be  neither  could  tell.  They 
had  not  long  to  await  a  solution.  Again  the  shriek  rang  out,  so 
loud,  so  near,  so  appalling  in  character,  that  it  seemed  to  freeze  their 
very  blood. 

For  a  moment  the  boys  fairly  gasped  for  breath.  Then  Dick 
whispered,  "  For  Heaven's  sake,  Harry,  what's  that  ?"  Harry's 
tongue  clove  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth  with  terror,  and  it  was  only 
alter  some  effort  that  he  managed  to  reply,  "  I  don't  know — I  guess 
it  must  be  a  panther."  "It  sounds  like  the  shriek  of  something 
dreadful,"  said  Dick  ;  "  but  if  it  is  a  panther,  let  us  stand  to  our  guns 
and  prepare  to  defend,  ourselves.  Oh,  how  dark  it  is !  If  we  had 
only  brought  a  lantern!"  It  was  indeed  dark  within  the  tent,  and 
more  by  the  sense  of  feeling  than  of  sight  the  boys  buckled  on  their 
knives  and  revolvers  and  found  their  guns.  This  done,  they  again 
relapsed  into  silence,  both  anxiously  awaiting,  yet  with  dread,  a 
renewal  of  the  sound  which  had  so  startled  them. 

Again  it  came,  this  time  evidently  not  quite  so  near.  "  This  will 
never  do,  Dick,"  whispered  Harry ;  "  we  might  be  attacked  here 


THE   NIGHT  ALARM. 


25 


before  we  had  a  chance  to  use  our  guns,  and  then  it  is  so  dark  that 
if  we  did  have  time  we  would  be  almost  sure  to  miss  or  shoot  one 
another.  It  is  plain  it  is  not  on  the  island,  and  I've  heard  panthers 
don't  like  to  cross  water.  We  must  go  outside  and  stir  up  the  fire. 
Then  if  anything  does  come  we  can  at  least  stand  some  kind  of 
a  chance  to  do  something."  It  was  with  trembling  fingers  they 
loosened  the  flap  of  the  tent.  A  few  smouldering  embers  and 
unconsumed  brands  only  were  left  of  the  fire,  and  these  Harry 
proceeded  with  nervous  haste  to  collect  and  fan  into  flame,  while 
Dick  stood  guard  over  him  with  his  loaded  gun  at  full  cock.  The 
fire  having  been  coaxed  into  new  life  and  well  replenished  with 
fuel,  the  boys  resumed  their  watch.  For  an  hour  or  more  it  lasted 
without  result,  nothing  but  the  roar  of  the  stream  and  the  soughing 
of  the  wind  through  the  trees  breaking  the  stillness  of  the  night. 

"  It  must  be  gone  now,  whatever  it  was,"  said  Dick,  at  last. 
"  Let's  build  up  the  fire  again  with  lots  of  wood,  and  try  to  sleep 
once  more."  They  did  so,  and  though  not  again  disturbed,  their 
sleep  was  fitful  and  unrefreshing. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Breakfast. — The  Traps  are  Set.— Passing  the  "Big  Rip."— Disaster. — John  Dant,  the 
Trapper.  —  "He  who  aims  all  over  [an  animal]  don't  stand  much  chance  of  hitting 
anywhere  in  particular." 

\\T  HEIST  morning  at  last  came  to  them,  the  boys  concluded  to 
*  *  try  boiled  potatoes  for  breakfast,  and  having  started  a  tire 
and  put  them  on  to  cook,  they  awaited  the  result  with  anxious  im- 
patience. Though  neither  spoke,  each  thought  of  home  with  a  sigh 
of  regret,  and  of  the  good  breakfast  that  always  had  awaited  him 
there  as  soon  as  dressed.  Nor  strive  as  they  would,  could  they  alto- 
gether avoid  the  reflection  that  if  in  the  future  it  took  them  five 
hours  to  cook  one  meal,  as  it  had  done  the  night  before,  even  if  they 
contented  themselves  with  two  meals  a  day,  the  hours  of  daylight 
which  they  would  be  able  to  devote  to  hunting  and  trapping  would 
be  few  indeed.  But  though  the  outlook  was  none  of  the  brightest, 
still  the  boys  were  by  no  means  devoid  of  pluck.  If  the  idea  of 
abandoning  their  enterprise  did  occur  to  either,  he  kept  it  quite  to 
himself. 

"  There's  no  use  in  watching  that  pot  boil,  Harry,"  said  Dick, 
after  some  time  had  been  thus  spent.  "  Let's  jam  the  stove  full  of 
wood,  and  go  ashore  and  set  our  traps.  We  can't  be  more  than 
two  or  three  miles  from  the  Forks,  and  we  ought  not  to  lose  any 
chance  of  fur,  or  we  may  not  have  money  enough  to  get  home 
with." 


THE   TKAPS   ARE   SET. 


27 


"  What  shall  we  do  for  bait  ?" 
said  Harry. 

"  Oh,  a  piece  of  pork  will  an-     i 
swer   well    enough    until    we    can     I  ii(0V>  ' 
shoot  something,"  replied  Dick. 

So  they  took  their  dozen  traps,  the  ' '  big  rip.  " 


2S  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

and  carefully  tied  a  small  piece  of  pork  to  the  trencher  (the  plat- 
form pressure  upon  which  springs  the  trap)  of  each.  Then,  land- 
ing, they  proceeded  up  the  river,  setting  a  trap  wherever  they  saw 
a  convenient  root  or  tree  to  chain  the  trap  to.  They  found  a  steel 
trap  a  lively  article  to  handle,  and  quite  indifferent  whether  it 
nipped  boy  or  game. 

"  It's  going  to  be  an  awful  job  to  carry  all  our  things  and  the 
boat  around  that  rapid,  Dick.  Let's  look  it  over  on  our  way  back 
to  camp,  and  see  if  we  can't  get  the  boat  up  somehow  with  her  load 
in  her." 

"  I'm  in  favor  of  that  if  it's  possible,"  replied  Dick.  "  It's  bad 
enough  to  get  yourself  through  these  bushes  without  carrying  any- 
thing. One  thing  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to :  If  this  bowie-knife 
and  revolver  want  to  go  through  these  woods  any  more  with  me, 
they  must  carry  themselves,  for  I  won't.  They  weigh  about  a  ton 
around  my  waist,  and  catch  in  every  bush  I  pass." 

;'  But,  Dick,  suppose  we  get  a  moose,  and  want  to  skin  it  ?" 

"  If  we  get  near  enough  to  a  moose  to  put  a  knife  in  him,  I  don't 
think  he  will  be  so  impatient  to  be  skinned  that  he  won't  wait  till 
I  can  go  for  my  knife.  As  soon  as  I  get  to  camp,  off  this  belt 
comes,  and  off  it  will  stay  until  I  see  more  use  for  this  knife  and 
pistol  than  I  have  seen  so  far." 

They  found  the  rapid  neither  very  long  nor  the  water  very  deep, 
though  it  was  quite  rough. 

"  I  think  we  can  do  it,"  said  Harry. 

"  We'll  try  it  anyway,"  replied  Dick.  "  We  can  take  off  our 
drawers  and  pantaloons,  and  wade  the  boat  up.  We  will  have  to 
keep  our  shoes  on,  though,  the  bottom  is  so  stony.  But  we've  got 
another  pair  that  we  can  put  on  till  these  are  dry." 

They  found  their  potatoes  boiled  to  pieces  when  they  reached 
camp,  but  it  was  no  time  to  be  particular.  They  satisfied  their  ap- 
petites as  best  they  could,  and  reloading  the  boat,  reached  the  foot 
of  the  rapid. 

Here  they  made  the  changes  in  their  dress  that  Dick  had  sug- 
gested, and  proceeded  "  to  wade  "  the  boat  up-stream.  It  hung  back 
hard.     Again  and  again  it  ran  upon  sunken  stones,  but  still  they 


WADING   THE   "BIG   RIP.' 


29 


made  progress.  The  smooth  water  above  was  at  last  close  at  hand. 
They  were  now  almost  exhausted  with  their  efforts.  Then  the  boat 
stuck  on  a  rock,  and  in  trying  to  get  it  off,  Dick  lost  his  footing ; 
Harry,  starting  to  help  him,  let  go  of  the  boat.  Instantly  the  bow 
swung  round  with  the  current,  the  stern  slid  off  the  rock,  and  the 
boat  was  swept  down-stream  broadside  to.     It  struck  heavily  again 


THEY  PROCEEDED   "TO   WADE       THE   BOAT   UP-STREAM. 


and  again,  but  it  still  remained  right  side  up.  It  was  nearly  at  the 
foot  of  the  rapid,  and  all  might  yet  have  been  well,  when  it  encoun- 
tered a  rock  with  tremendous  force,  rolled  over  and  over,  and  disap- 
peared in  the  pool. 

The  boys  stood  as  though  petrified  until  after  the  catastrophe. 
Then,  when  they  saw  their  all  vanish  before  their  eyes,  they  sought 
the  bank,  and  burst  into  tears. 

Half  starved,  broken  down  with  unaccustomed  fatigue,  without 
food,  and  without  the  means  of  procuring  either  food  or  fire,  they 
were  alone,  half  naked,  in  the  trackless  wilderness.  No  wonder  they 
were  overcome. 


30  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

"  Oh,  Harry,  what  shall  we  do  ?— what  shall  we  do  ?  We  can 
never  walk  back  to  the  settlement  through  these  woods.  Why,  oh. 
why  did  we  not  carry  around  the  rapid,  as  the  store-keeper  ad- 
vised?" 

Nothing  could  have  been  better  timed.  Stung  by  the  implied 
reproach,  since  his  suggestion  had  brought  the  accident  about,  Har- 
ry gathered  his  wits  together  and  regained  his  resolution. 

"  It's  hard  luck,  Dick,  but  it  won't  do  us  any  good  to  cry  over  it. 
As  you  say,  we  could  never  find  our  way  back  through  the  woods, 
even  if  we  did  not  starve  on  the  road.  We  must  find  that  Dant's 
camp.  The  store-keeper  said  he  was  a  good  fellow.  If  he  is  there, 
he  cannot  refuse  to  help  us.  If  he  is  not,  we  must  take  possession, 
and  make  it  right  with  him  the  best  way  we  can  when  he  comes 
back." 

Wading  the  river  when  they  could,  and  following  the  bank 
where  they  could  not,  the  trail  was  at  last  found.  Spurred  by  the 
dread  of  a  night  in  the  woods  without  fire  in  their  present  condi- 
tion, and  mindful  of  the  alarm  of  the  preceding  night,  they  hastened 
on,  stopping  only  when  rest  became  absolutely  necessary.  At  last 
the  forest  looked  thinner  before  them.  Then  came  a  sound  which 
riveted  them  to  the  spot.  Yes,  there  could  be  no  mistake  ;  it  was  the 
sound  of  an  axe,  and  at  no  great  distance. 

A  few  moments  later,  as  the  boys  burst  out  of  the  woods,  a  man 
stepped  from  behind  a  bush,  rifle  in  hand. 

Running  up  to  him,  Dick  asked,  "  Are  you  Mr.  Dant  ?"  and  with- 
out waiting  for  an  answer :  "  The  store-keeper  at  the  settlement  said 
you  were  a  real  good  fellow,  and  if  we  got  into  trouble  to  come  to 
you.     We've  lost  all  we  had,  even  our  money,  but — ' 

"  We  don't  help  people  in  trouble  for  money  in  this  country,  my 
boy,"  broke  in  Dant.  "  I  heard  you  coming,  and  I  thought  I  was  in 
for  a  caribou  instead  of  such  a  visit  as  this.  You  are  welcome, 
though.    AVas  there  anybody  else  in  your  party  ?" 

"  No  ;  there  were  only  we  two,"  replied  Harry. 

"  That's  all  right,  then.  I  never  bother  about  trouble  until 
after  supper,  unless  it's  pressing.  I  see  you're  wet,  and  hungry 
too,  I  suppose.     Come  into  my  cabin  and  get  on  some  dry  clothes. 


AT  THE   LAKE. 


31 


After  supper  we  will  talk 
things  over.11 

It  was  a  welcome  in- 
vitation. Before,  exercise 
had  kept  them  tolerably- 
warm.  Now  the  cold  wind 
from  the  lake  seemed  to 
pierce  their  very  bones.  It 
was  only  a  rough  log-hut, 
but  then  it  was  dry  and  warm.      A  fire  burned  in  an  open  stone 


IN    THE    TRACKLESS    WILDERNESS. 


32 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


fireplace  on  one  side  of  the  single  room,  opposite  to  which  was  a 
rude  bunk  some  ten  feet  wide,  covered  with  evergreen  boughs.     A 


•*2   '.HP. 


table  of  hewn  planks  built  against  the  side  of  the  cabin  and  a  few 
stools  completed  the  furniture. 

The  trapper  stirred  the  fire  into  a  bright  blaze,  and  then  pulled 
some  clothes  from  a  shelf.  "  Here,  boys,  are  a  couple  of  warm  un- 
dershirts and  drawers,  and  two  pairs  of  stockings.  I  have  only  one 
extra  pair  of  pants ;  you  will  have  to  draw  lots  for  them.  Now 
climb  out  of  those  wet  clothes  and  get  into  these  dry  ones  as  soon 
as  you  can." 

In  a  few  moments  he  had  their  wet  things  steaming  before  the 
fire,  and  began  to  prepare  for  supper. 

"  Now  we  are  dry,  can't  we  help  you,  Mr.  Dant  ?"  asked  Harry. 

"  Oh  yes,  you  can  help  me  first-rate  if  you  will.     Just  pull  up 


JOHN  DANT,  THE   TRAPPER. 


33 


those  stools  and  sit  down  and  watch  that  fire  burn.  That's  all  I 
want  you  to  do  till  after  supper." 

So  the  boys  watched  the  fire,  and  studied  their  host.  He  was 
rather  a  tall  spare  man,  with  short  dark  hair,  keen  brown  eyes,  a 
long  straight  nose,  rather  a  wide  thin-lipped  mouth,  and  a  square 
chin  with  a  big  dent  in  its  middle.  A  gray  flannel  shirt,  gray  trou- 
sers upheld  by  suspenders,  short,  heavy  yarn  stockings,  into  which 
the  bottoms  of  his  trousers  were  tucked,  and  low  cowhide  shoes 
completed  his  dress.  Where  were  the  buckskin  hunting  shirt  and 
fringed  leggings,  the  bowie-knife  and  revolver,  and  the  rough  sen- 
tentious conversation  interlarded  with  quaint  oaths,  which  they  had 
supposed  characterized  the  true  trapper  ? 

If  in  anything  he  differed  from  the  farmers  of  the  settlement  in 
appearance,  it  was  in  a  certain  alertness  of  manner,  and  in  that  his 
language  seemed  better  chosen.  Everything  he  did  seemed  to  ac- 
complish a  result,  and  a  good  supper,  including  plenty  of  fresh  meat, 


ARE    YOU    MR.   PANT 


34  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

was  ready  in  less  time  than  it  had  taken  the  boys  to  make  a  fire. 
Though  little  or  nothing  of  the  ideal  trapper  appeared  in  their  host, 
long  before  supper  had  been  eaten  he  had  won  their  entire  confi- 
dence and  esteem.  When  supper  was  finished,  the  dishes  washed, 
and  all  preparations  for  the  night  were  completed,  but  not  till  then, 
he  lit  his  pipe,  threw  himself  on  the  bunk,  and  said,  "  Now,  boys, 
tell  us  all  about  it." 

He  was  soon  in  possession  of  their  whole  story — how  they  had 
started  out  with  a  boat -load  of  provisions,  their  unfortunate  at- 
tempts at  cooking,  and  finally  the  accident  which  had  lost  them 
their  whole  outfit  and  thrown  them  upon  the  charity  of  their  pres- 
ent host. 

At  but  one  part  did  he  show  his  sense  of  the  absurdity  of  the 
whole  performance.  Their  effort  at  trapping  called  up  a  broad  grin 
of  surprise  and  amusement.  The  whole  story,  where  the  traps  were 
set,  how  fastened,  how  baited — all  had  to  be  told  in  answer  to  his 
questions. 

"  And  what  did  you  set  them  for,  boys  ?"  he  at  last  asked. 

u  Set  them  for?''  replied  Harry.  "Why,  we  set  them  for  any- 
thing that  would  come  along.     Isn't  that  the  way  you  do?" 

"  Well,  no ;  not  exactly.  Every  animal  has  its  peculiar  habits, 
and  if  you  don't  set  your  traps  accordingly,  you  might  as  well  let  it 
alone.  You  won't  get  anything.  Your  answer  reminds  me  of  a 
gentleman  who  came  up  here  a  couple  of  years  ago  crazy  to  shoot  a 
moose.  I  did  the  best  I  could  for  him,  but  he  was  so  fidgety  and 
uneasy,  always  just  at  the  wrong  time,  that  when  we  came  across 
one  he  scared  it  off  before  we  could  get  a  shot.  After  a  while  he 
had  lost  so  many  good  chances  that  I  was  pretty  well  discouraged. 
At  last  we  were  coming  down  the  river  in  my  boat.  I  was  pad- 
dling, and  he  was  in  the  bow — a  big  double-barrelled  shot-gun.  first 
cousin  to  a  cannon,  lying  across  his  lap.  About  half  an  hour  be- 
fore he  had  scared  a  caribou  out  of  a  years  growth,  as  usual  with- 
out getting  a  shot.  We  were  both  doing  a  powerful  deal  of  think- 
ing, and  his  everlasting  tongue  was  still  for  once. 

"  We  rounded  a  point,  and  there  was  as  nice  a  bull-moose  as  ever 
I  saw  standing  mid-leg  deep  in  the  water.     We  had  caught  it  in  the 


WHERE   ON  EARTH    DID  YOU  AIM  AT  THAT   MOOSE?" 


35 


very  act  of  crossing  the  river.  There  could  not  be  a  better  chance. 
He  gaped  at  it  as  if  it  was  his  grandfather's  ghost,  his  mouth  wide 
open,  and  his  eyes  bulging  right  out  of  his  head.  A  bull-moose  is  a 
big  animal  anyway,  and  I  suppose  it  looked  to  him  about  twenty 
feet  high — at  any  rate,  he  acted  as  if  it  did. 

"  By  this  time  the  moose  had  seen  all  he  wanted  to  of  us,  and 


A    TRAPPER  S    CAMP. 


36  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

was  leaving  for  the  woods,  not  on  the  run,  but  moving  off  on  a 
quick  walk.  When  I  first  saw  it,  I  thought  it  was  our  meat  sure, 
but  now  I  began  to  be  anxious.  I  whispered  to  him,  '  Shoot !  why 
don't  you  shoot  V  This  waked  him.  He  up  with  that  cannon  of 
his  and  banged  away  both  barrels,  a  half  a  fistful  of  buckshot  in 
each  load,  and  never  touched  a  hair  of  the  animal,  though  it  wasn't 
forty  yards  away. 

"  I  was  disgusted  clear  through,  and  mighty  mad,  though  I  had 
no  right  to  be,  since  he  paid  me  for  my  time,  so  it  was  his  loss  and 
not  mine.  '  Where  on  earth  did  you  aim  at  that  moose  V  I  asked 
him,  in  a  way  that  I  guess  told  him  pretty  plainly  what  I  thought 
of  the  performance. 

"  '  Where  did  I  aim  V  he  said.     '  Why,  I  aimed  at  him  all  over.' 

"  You  see  that  a  person  who  aims  all  over  the  universe  don't 
stand  much  chance  of  hitting  anywhere  in  particular,  and  that's 
just  as  true  of  trapping  as  of  hunting. 

"Well,  boys,  it's  getting  late  for  the  woods.  I  guess  we  had 
better  call  it  a  day,  and  go  to  sleep  now.  To-morrow  we'll  see  what 
can  be  done." 


*1S**^K^ 


*&r*-y: 


■  ''     '  i    r^nlilh. lnrXn.-1-ilfrr^^T 


CHAPTER   IV. 

To  the  Scene  of  Disaster.— The  Cause  of  the  Night  Alarm.— Running  a  Rapid. — 
Nothing  saved  from  the  Wreck.— "What  shall  we  do?" — A  Timely  Invitation.— 
The  "Timid  Mule"  again. — A  Hint  on  Trapping. — Poling  up  the  "Big  Rip." 

"  rpURlS"  out !  turn  out !  Breakfast  will  be  ready  in  five  minutes !" 
-*-     awoke  the  bo}rs. 

"  Is  it  morning  already  ?"  exclaimed  Harry.  "  It  does  not  seem 
as  if  I  had  been  asleep  more  than  half  an  hour." 

"  We  generally  call  it  morning  in  this  country  after  the  sun  be- 
gins to  shine.  I'd  let  you  sleep  till  you  were  sick  of  it,  but  it's 
been  raining  like  shot  all  night,  and  the  river  will  be  booming.  If 
we  are  to  save  any  of  your  stuff  we  must  be  quick  about  it.  In  the 
woods  you  can  never  pay  any  attention  to  comfort  as  long  as  work 
is  to  be  done." 

Breakfast  over,  they  started  together  for  the  scene  of  the  dis- 
aster. 

For  some  time  anxiety  as  to  the  result  kept  the  boys  silent.  At 
last  Dick  said,  "  Mr.  Dant,  you  did  not  tell  us  last  night  what  it  was 
that  frightened  us  so  when  we  were  camped  on  the  island.  Did 
you  ever  hear  anything  like  it  V 

"  I  ?     Oh  yes,  plenty  of  times.     I  was  off  last  year  after  caribou 

with  a  city  gentleman.    He  was  a  very  nice  man — a  real  gentleman  ; 
3*  ' 


38  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

though,  like  most  city  men  in  the  woods,  he  had  more  pluck  than 
discretion.  He  seemed  to  think  a  good  deal  of  stuff  I  should  have 
left  in  the  home-camp  absolutely  indispensable,  so  there  was  nothing 
to  do  but  take  it  along.  When  he  saw  me  making  up  my  pack — and 
it  was  a  big  one,  more  than  any  one  man  ought  to  lug — he  was  just 
eaten  up  with  ambition,  and  insisted  on  carrying  a  pack  himself  and 
taking  half  the  load  in  it.  Well,  I  knew  he  couldn't  do  it,  for  mak- 
ing your  way  through  these  woods  where  there  is  no  trail  is  itself 
pretty  hard  on  a  man  who  is  only  accustomed  to  clear  and  level 
walking.  Then,  too,  lugging  a  pack  even  over  the  best  of  travelling 
is  very  distressing  to  a  person  who  isn't  used  to  it.  But  the  two 
together  I  knew  he  couldn't  do,  though  he  was  a  pretty  able-bodied 
man,  too.  So  I  had  to  fool  him  a  little  on  the  packs.  I  put  the 
light  and  bulky  things  into  his,  and  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  it  look 
as  big  and  fat  as  possible,  while  I  shoved  all  the  heavy  articles  into 
my  pack,  making  it  up  to  look  as  much  smaller  than  his  as  I  well 
could,  though  that  wasn't  much. 

"  Well,  we  started  off,  he  with  about  twenty  pounds  on  his  back 
and  his  rifle  in  his  hands,  while  I  had  about  seventy-five  pounds 
and  my  axe. 

"  It  came  along  towards  night,  and,  just  as  I  expected,  we 
hadn't  covered  much  more  than  half  the  distance  we  ought ;  so  I 
told  him  we'd  have  to  camp.  It  didn't  take  me  long  to  put  up 
a  lean-to,  using  fir -boughs  for  the  roof,  back,  and  sides,  and  leav- 
ing it  open  towards  the  fire.  While  I  was  doing  this,  I  made 
him  go  down  to  a  brook  which  ran  before  the  camp,  wash  all  over, 
and  put  on  dry  underclothes,  for  he  was  wringing  wet  with  per- 
spiration. You  see  we  have  to  look  out  for  these  city  people 
mighty  sharp.  They  can't  stand  much  exposure,  though  they  think 
they  can;  and  I  knew  if  he  stood  about  with  his  wet  clothes  on 
he  would  soon  get  chilled,  and  then  I  might  have  a  sick  man  on  my 
hands. 

"  Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  I  made  him  up  a  nice  bed  of 
fir-boughs,  and  after  we  had  had  supper  and  smoked  a  while,  he 
dropped  off  asleep.  As  for  myself,  I  hadn't  time  to  make  any  bed, 
but  just  lay  down  beside  him  on  the  bare  ground  and  wrapped  my- 


SNOWED  IN   FOR   THE   WINTER. 


WAS   IT   A   PANTHER? 


41 


self  up  in  a  single  blanket,  which  was  all  I  could  carry  for  my  own 

use  because  he  had  such  a  lot  of  stuff.     It  was  a  real  cold  night,  and 

some  time  after  midnight  I  waked  pretty  near  frozen.     So  I  got  up 

to  mend  the  fire.     My  rattling  about  the  logs  half  awakened  him, 

and  just  then  the  same  noise  you  heard  rang  out  from  the  woods 

not  a  hundred  feet  from  us.     You  ought  to  have  seen  him.     I 

thought  he  would  fairly  go  through  the  roof,  he  jumped  so ;  and  for 

ten  minutes  afterwards  his 

nerves  were  so  shaken  that 

he   was   all   of  a  tremble. 

Not  that  he  was  a  coward, 

but  to  be  waked  out  of  a 

sound  sleep  in  such  a  wild 

and    lonely    place,  with    a 

noise   like   the   screams  of 

ten  devils  ringing  in  your 

ears,  is   apt  to  shake   any 

one's  nerves,  as  I  suppose 

you  yourselves  found  out.11 

"  Yes,11  said  Dick.  "  But 
you  haven't  told  us  what  it 
was.    Was  it  a  panther?" 

"  Oh  no,  it  wasn't  any 
panther.  Though  I've 
heard  two  or  three  persons 
say  they  have  seen  pan- 
thers in  these  woods,  I 
think  they  must  have  been 
mistaken,  for  after  all  these 

years  I  have  been  knocking  around  here,  summer  and  winter,  I 
have  never  seen  one  nor  the  trail  of  one.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  I 
must  have  come  across  some  sign,  particularly  on  the  snow  in  win- 
ter, if  there  were  any  here." 

"  Well,  what  was  it,  Mr.  Dant  ?"  said  Harry. 

"  It  was  a  screech-owl." 

"  A  screech-owTl !     Why,  it  screamed  like  a  locomotive." 


ON    THE   TRAIL. 


42 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


"  If  you  had  said  it  screamed  like  four  locomotives,"  replied  the 
trapper,  "  you  would  hardly  have  exaggerated  the  effect  it  produces 
in  these  still  woods  at  night.     It  seems  strange  that  a  bird  hardly 

bigger  than  my  two  fists  can 
let  out  a  howl  the  size  of  a 
good  big  house.  But  such  is 
the  fact.  If  an  elephant  could 
make  here  in  these  woods  a 
noise  as  loud  in  proportion  to 
its  size  as  a  screech-owl  can, 
it  would  pretty  near  make  the 
windows  rattle  in  New  York 
City. 

"  But  here  we  are  at  the 
river.  You  wait  a  few  min- 
utes while  I  get  my  boat.  I 
won't  be  gone  long." 

He  was  as  good  as  his 
word,  and  soon  returned  with 
the  boat,  in  which  all  em- 
barked and  pushed  off  from 
the  bank.  It  took  but  a  short 
time  with  the  aid  of  the  cur- 
rent to  reach  the  head  of  the 
"  Big  Kip,"  the  scene  of  their  disaster.  As  the  trapper  said  would 
be  the  case,  the  river  had  risen  considerably,  and  the  eyes  of  the 
boys  rested  on  a  very  wild  piece  of  water.  After  their  late  expe- 
rience, the}T  looked  upon  it  with  great  respect. 

"  Can't  we  help  you  carry  the  boat  around  ?"  said  Harry. 
"  Carry  the  boat  around  !  What  for  ?  Oh  no !  There  is  no 
trouble  in  running  that  rapid.  The  water  itself  shows  where  to 
go.  Do  you  see  that  smooth  tongue  running  into  the  rough  water  \ 
That's  where  the  best  of  it  is.  Nature  generally  tells  what  to 
do  if  you  can  only  understand  her.  If  I  were  a  stranger  here  I 
might  drop  the  boat  down  on  a  pole,  as  we  call  it ;  that  is,  use  my 
pole  as  a  brake  and  let  her  down  slowly.     But  I  know  this  place 


A    SCREECH-OWL. 


AT   THE   SCENE    OF   THE   WRECK. 


43 


like  a  book,  and  if  you  will  only  sit  perfectly  still,  no  matter  how 
dangerous  it  may  look,  we  will  go  through  all  right." 

But  little  was  saved  from  the  boys'  wreck.  Their  boat  was 
found,  an  old  and  rotten  one  disguised  with  a  fresh  coat  of  paint,  but 
stove  and  ruined  beyond  repair.  Harry's  pantaloons  were,  however, 
recovered,  hung  by  the  suspenders  to  a  snag,  the  legs  swinging  and 
kicking  about  in  the  fierce  current  as  though  endowed  with  life. 
How  Harry  wished  he  had  not  placed  his  money  for  safe  keeping 
in  his  valise,  which,  well  weighted  with  ammunition,  now  r< 
on  the  bottom  of  the  deep  pool  at  the  foot  of  the  rapid. 


.,    :     X   :;i':;v   A 


ABOVE    THE    FORKS. 


At  last  and  with  reluctance  the  boys  were  forced  to  admit  that 
no  further  salvage  could  be  looked  for.  So  this  was  to  be  the 
outcome  of  the  expedition  they  had  planned  so  long  and  with  such 


44  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

care  and  hope.  All  preceding  inconvenience  and  discomfort  was 
forgotten  and  overshadowed  by  the  recollection  of  the  great  disas- 
ter, which  had  brought  ruin  upon  them  in  an  instant  and  beyond 
the  possibility  of  repair. 

Nor  was  this  all.  As  they  gazed  at  one  another  with  blank 
faces  and  quivering  lips,  the  magnitude  of  their  misfortune  and  its 
consequences  seemed  to  grow  with  every  moment's  thought.  The 
past,  disastrous  as  it  was,  shrank  into  insignificance  before  the  aw- 
ful problem  of  the  future.  Many  miles  intervened  between  them 
and  the  nearest  settlement,  miles  of  trackless  swamp  and  forest, 
a  labyrinth  in  which  no  friendly  sign  would  direct  their  way ;  in 
which  to  wander  was  to  be  lost,  and  in  which  to  be  lost  was  to 
perish  miserably.  And  if  they  should,  despite  this,  reach  the  settle 
ment,  they  were  without  food,  money,  or  even  clothing  sufficient  foi 
the  greater  distance  which  would  still  separate  them  from  home. 

The  keen  eye  of  the  trapper  read  their  troubled  faces  as  the 
scholar  reads  an  open  book,  and  his  kind  heart  stirred  within  him. 

'•  There,  boys,  it's  no  use  crying  over  spilled^milk.  What's  done 
is  done,  and  can't  be  helped.  What  is  to  be  done  is  now  the  thing 
for  us  to  wrestle  with." 

"  But  what  can  we  do,  Mr.  Dant  V  replied  Harry.  "  How  far  is 
it  to  the  settlement  through  the  woods,  and  how  are  we  to  find 
our  way  '." 

"  Well,  it  might  be  fifty  miles  and  it  might  be  any  distance,  ac- 
cording to  the  way  you  happened  to  take  to  get  there.  The  river 
knows  the  way,  and  if  you  could  follow  it  and  stick  to  it,  of  course 
you  would  come  to  the  settlement  at  last.  But  you  can't.  You 
would  meet  dozens  of  swamps  and  bog-holes  which  you  couldn't 
cross,  and  in  trying  to  work  round  them  you  would  be  certain,  soon- 
er or  later,  to  miss  your  reckoning  and  get  lost ;  and  if  you  once  did 
get  lost,  you  might  wander  through  these  woods  till  you  dropped, 
and  never  meet  a  living  soul.  No,  no ;  I  couldn't  think  of  letting 
you  try  it,  for  there  would  be  ten  chances  of  its  costing  you  your 
lives  to  one  of  your  pulling  through.  If  you  must  go  down  to  the 
settlement,  there's  nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to  go  with  you.  When 
I  heard  the  rain  last  night,  I  felt  pretty  sure  we  would  save  little  of 


A   TIMELY    INVITATION. 


45 


your  stuff,  so  I  have  been  thinking  things  over  some.  I  suppose  you 
hardly  want  to  go  right  home  without  a  thing  to  show  for  your  trip, 
except  that  you  went  all  to  pieces  at  its  very  beginning  ?" 

"  No,  we  don't,"  said  Dick. 

"  Well,  October  is  one  of  the  best  months  we  have  in  the  woods. 
This  good  weather  may  hold  for  two  weeks  or  more.     Suppose  you 
come  back  and 
put  in  the  time   | 
with  me,  till  the    I 
weather    shows 
signs   of  break-    1 
ing.    Then  I  can 
take  you  down    j 
to    the    settle-    J 
ment.     I've  got    I 
to  go  there  any-    1 
way  before  I  am    8 
snowed    in    for 
the  winter,  and 
I  might  as  well 
go  then  as  any 
time.      Besides, 
the  river  is  pret- 
ty wTell  up  now. 

If  this  good  weather  holds,  it  will  be  much 
lower  in  a  week  or  so.  Then  we  may  be 
able  to  find  your  guns  and  other  heavy 
things  that  would  sink  quickly.  For  all 
these  reasons  I  think  you  had  better  hang 
on  with  me  for  a  while." 

"  It's  very  good  of  you,  Mr.  Dant,  but 
we  ought  not  to  do  it  unless  you  will  let 

us  make  some  return  for  your  time  and  trouble  and  for  our  board," 
said  Dick. 

"  I  asked  you,  boys,  for  the  sake  of  your  company,  and  not  to 
make  anything  out  of  you.     What  little  store  goods  you  will  eat 


MILES  OF  SWAMP  AND  TRACK- 
LESS  FOREST. 


46  CITY  BOYS  IN  THE  WOODS. 

won't  hurt  me  much,  I  guess.  The  truth  is,  there  isn't  anything 
else  for  you  to  do,  so  you  might  just  as  well  make  up  your  minds 
to  it.     You  can  be  sure  of  a  hearty  welcome." 

"  We  can't  pay  Mr.  Dant  for  his  kindness,  Dick,"  said  Harry, 
u  that's  sure.  But  our  fathers  are  neither  poor  nor  mean  men.  I 
feel  sure  they  will  repay  him  for  any  expense  his  generosity  puts 
him  to,  if  he  will  only  wait  till  we  can  get  home  and  tell  them 
about  it." 

"  There  is  no  doubt  about  that,  Harry,  and  they  will  thank  him 
too.  But  it  seems  a  little  cool  for  us  to  drop  down,  as  it  were  out 
of  the  sky,  upon  an  entire  stranger,  and  throw  ourselves  on  his 
hands  for  board  and  lodging  like  a  couple  of  tramps,  particularly 
when  it  will  cost  him  so  much  time  and  trouble  to  make  good  from 
the  settlement  the  inroads  we  shall  make  on  his  winter  s  stock  of 
provisions. " 

"  You  may  have  been  strangers  yesterday,  boys,  but  you  are  not 
now,"  replied  the  trapper ;  "  and  if  I  am  not  very  much  out,  we  will 
be  friends,  and  pretty  warm  friends,  too,  before  many  days  have 
passed.  You  may  take  it  any  way  to  suit  yourselves.  If  you 
choose  to,  and  can  repay  me,  well  and  good.  If  you  can't,  well  and 
good  too.  You  will  be  quite  welcome  either  way — that  you  may 
be  sure  of.  So  let's  consider  the  matter  settled,  take  up  your  traps, 
and  get  back  to  camp." 

As  they  were  going  to  the  traps,  Harry  said,  "I  wish  I  could 
get  such  a  chance  at  a  moose  as  that  gentleman  had  you  told  us 
about  last  night.  I  don't  think  I  would  make  such  a  fool  of 
myself." 

"  H'm !  Well,  perhaps  not ;  but  I  would  not  be  too  sure  of  it. 
You've  seen  plenty  of  countrymen  in  the  city  gaping  in  the  store- 
windows  and  at  the  crowd,  I  suppose,  and  perhaps  you've  seen 
landsmen  at  sea  for  the  first  time.  Every  man  has  some  place  in 
the  world  in  which  he  is  good  for  something,  and  there  are  other 
places  where  he  isn't  worth  a  cent.  Really  I  suppose  we  ought  not 
to  laugh  as  we  do  at  the  greenhorns  who  come  up  here,  though  the 
things  they  do  and  don't  do  are  wonderful  to  see.  I  suppose  the 
laugh  would  be  on  the  other  side  if  they  had  us  in  a  city." 


A   HINT   ABOUT   TRAPPING. 


49 


"  I  am  not  sure  but  what  we  had  nearly  as  good  a  chance  on 
our  way  up,"  said  Dick ;  "  and  if  we  did,  we  didn't  distinguish  our- 
selves much  more  than  that  gentleman.'" 

"  How  was  that  ?"  and  soon  the  trapper  had  the  whole  story  of 
the  timid  mule. 

"  Well,  boys,  that  was  a  cow-moose,  sure  enough.  You're  not 
the  first  I  have  known  to  make  the  same  mistake." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Dant,  do  you  suppose  it  is  possible  for  us  to  get 
another  chance  at  a  moose  ?  I  should  so  like  to  have  something 
to  talk  about  besides  our  shipwreck  when  we  get  home,"  said 
Harry. 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure ;  but  if  you  will  do  just  what  I  tell  you, 


tUNNING   A 


and  work  hard,  I  will  see  what  can  be  done.  Now,  where  are  the 
traps  ?" 

They  came  to  one.  There  it  lay,  bare  and  in  plain  sight,  chained 
fast  to  a  thick  root,  the  piece  of  pork  still  tied  to  the  trencher. 
Nothing  had  disturbed  it.  It  was  with  no  great  pleasure  that  the 
boys  saw  the  look  of  amusement  that  spread  over  the  trapper's  face 
as  he  stopped  before  it. 

"  Isn't  that  the  way  you  do  it,  Mr.  Dant  ?"  said  Dick. 

"  Well,  scarcely.  It's  humane,  perhaps,  to  try  to  catch  your  ani- 
mals by  the  head,  and  so  kill  them  quick.  But  there  is  one  trouble 
about  that  way  of  setting  a  trap.  No  animal  will  go  near  it. 
4 


50  CITY  BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

Good  trappers,  except  for  sable  and  fisher,  seldom  use  bait  at  all ; 
and  when  they  do  they  don't  put  it  on  the  trap,  but  beyond  it,  and 
arrange  things  so  that  the  animal  must  step  into  the  trap  to  get  the 
bait.  The  trap  they  cover  out  of  sight.  I'll  show  you  something 
about  it  to-morrow." 

The  traps  were  all  gathered,  and  brought  to  the  boat,  which  had 
been  left  beside  the  bank  at  the  foot  of  the  rapid. 

"  Now,  boys,  you  walk  around  to  the  head  of  the  rapid,  and  I 
will  pole  the  boat  up  and  take  you  in  there,"  said  the  trapper. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  can  force  a  boat  up  such  an  awful 
current  as  this !     Why,  it's  right  uphill !"  said  Dick. 

kv  That's  what  I  thought  of  doing.  So  long  as  there  are  no 
regular  up  and  down  falls,  and  the  water  isn't  too  deep  to  get  bot- 
tom readily  with  a  pole,  a  boat  can  be  made  to  do  almost  anything ; 
that  is,  if  the  man  who  handles  it  knows  his  business." 

The  boys  landed,  and  made  their  way  through  the  bushes 
which  bordered  the  stream  to  a  point  where  a  good  view  could  be 
had  of  the  rapid.  There  they  stopped  by  common  consent  to  wit- 
ness the  struggle,  not  without  some  lurking  expectation  of  seeing 
a  repetition  of  their  own  mishap.  The  trapper  pushed  from  the 
bank  and  paddled  to  the  foot  of  the  quick  water.  Then,  pole  in 
hand,  he  rose  to  his  feet,  standing  near  the  stern  of  the  boat.  A 
quick  and  strong  push  forced  it  into  the  turmoil.  The  boys 
could  not  but  admire  the  alert  glance,  the  firm -set  mouth,  and 
the  unstudied  grace  of  his  poise  as  he  stood  erect  in  that  cockle- 
shell of  a  boat  amid  the  foaming  water — a  position  either  of  them 
would  have  been  reluctant  to  take  and  maintain  even  on  the  placid 
pool.  The  water  boiled  up  under  the  bow  of  the  boat  and  hissed 
by  its  side  as  it  hung  there,  in  appearance  as  motionless  as  any  of 
the  rocks  over  which  the  torrent  foamed.  Then  the  trapper  threw 
his  weight  upon  the  pole,  and  the  boat  began  to  move.  Up,  up, 
inch  by  inch,  it  seemed  to  the  boys  fairly  to  climb  the  raging 
slope ;  slowly,  it  is  true,  but  still  to  climb.  Then  like  lightning  the 
pole  was  withdrawn  and  a  fresh  hold  was  taken  on  the  bottom,  and 
again  the  reluctant  boat  began  to  mount.  Sometimes  it  would 
seem  to  the  boys  to  hang  motionless  amid  a  smother  of  foam,  some- 


POLING    UP    THE  'BIG   KIP." 


51 


times  to  lose  ground,  as  though  the  forces  of  the  current  were  about 
to  triumph,  or  had  triumphed,  over  the  power  of  the  man ;  but 
these  were  moments  of  but  apparent  uncertainty  and  of  short  du- 
ration. At  no  time  more  than  when  he  paused  or  dropped  back 
was  the  trapper  a  surer  master  of  the  situation.  He  but  adjusted 
the  bow  to  a  change  of  the  direction  of  advance,  and  when  the 
change  was  made  to  his  satisfaction  the  boat  began  again  to  mount 
upward,  until  at  last  it  floated  safely  in  the  more  placid  water  above 
and  the  rapid  was  overcome. 


<2kJm 


?*TflP?£ 


CHAPTER   V. 


Preparing  for  a  Tramp. — Laying  out  a  Sable-line. — Trapping  Sable  and  Fisher. 

ANOTHER  day  dawned  after  another  night  of  that  sweet  and 
-  dreamless  sleep  which  healthful  bodily  fatigue  alone  insures. 
Indeed.  "  Tumble  out,  boys !  tumble  out !  Breakfast  will  be  ready 
in  live  minutes !"  again  aroused  them  to  consciousness. 

During  breakfast  the  trapper  stated  his  plans  for  the  day.  "  To- 
d;iy.  boys,  we  will  lay  out  a  new  sable-line  to  the  south-west,  and 
scatter  the  proper  number  of  traps  along  it,  all  ready  to  set  when 
the  time  comes. 

"  This  will  take  us  to  the  West  Branch,  which  comes  into  the 
main  river  at  the  Forks.  We  will  follow  it  up  in  a  northerly  direc- 
tion a  couple  of  miles,  dropping  a  mink-trap  here  and  there,  when 
we  will  strike  an  old  sable-line  of  mine,  which  we  will  follow  back 
through  the  woods  to  camp,  and  look  out  for  that  line,  too.  That's 
the  way  we  always  lay  out  our  trapping  lines,  for  then  we  can  go 
out  in  the  morning  in  one  direction  and  return  at  night  in  another, 
always  over  fresh  ground ;  while  the  hope  of  finding  something 
worth  while  in  the  next  trap  gives  a  friendly  boost  over  the  wind- 
falls and  through  the  thickets  as  the  day  draws  on,  and  makes  the 


N    THE    Wool  is 


PREPARING   FOR  A   TRAMP.  55 

path  seem  easy  and  the  way  short.  If  you  are  willing  to  help  we 
can  easily  do  it  in  a  clay,  but  we  must  each  take  a  back-load." 

The  boys  were  not  only  willing  to  be  of  any  service  they  could, 
but  were  full  of  curiosity  to  see  how  trapping  was  done  by  a  master 
of  the  art,  as  Dant  unquestionably  was.  He  produced  two  well- 
worn  leather  knapsacks  and  a  pack-basket,  and  while  loading  them 
explained  to  the  boys  what  he  was  doing  and  why  he  did  it. 

"In  travelling  through  the  woods  nothing  is  meaner  than  hand- 
bundles.  At  least  one  hand  is  needed  to  keep  the  bushes  out  of 
your  face  and  to  help  you  over  and  under  the  windfalls,  which,  as 
you  have  already  found  out,  must  be  passed  in  some  way  every  few 
rods.  So  a  woodsman  carries  all  that  he  has  to  carry,  as  far  as  he 
can,  in  a  pack  on  his  back. 

"  For  this  purpose  one  of  these  leather  knapsacks  is  the  best 
thing — not  those  flimsy  shams  of  canvas  or  shoddy  leather  they  sell 
in  the  cities,  that  won't  stand  water,  and  are  so  hung  to  their  narrow 
shoulder-straps  that  they  pretty  near  cut  a  man's  arms  off  before 
half  a  day's  travel  is  over.  They  are  good  for  nothing.  A  pack- 
basket  is  pretty  fair,  but  not  as  good  as  a  knapsack,  because  it  doesn't 
sit  so  close  to  the  back  and  it's  harder  to  keep  your  balance.  If  you 
stumble  and  slip  with  a  knapsack,  it  sticks  to  you,  and  you  can  catch 
yourself  again ;  but  if  with  a  pack-basket,  it  swings  off  to  one  side 
and  throws  you  more  out  of  balance  than  you  were  before. 

"  Now,  there  is  just  as  much  art  in  making  up  a  pack  as  there  is 
in  putting  a  saddle  on  a  horse  so  that  it  will  ride  easy  and  not  gall 
him. 

"  You  see,  I  first  fold  this  single  blanket  and  put  it  inside  so  that 
it  will  form  a  back-cushion. 

"  Now  I  pile  in  the  traps,  making  them  pack  as  long  and  thin  as 
I  can,  and  turning  the  sharp  corners  away  from  the  back-cushion  as 
much  as  possible.  Traps  are  a  mean  kind  of  a  back-load,  do  what 
you  will,  for  they  will  not  stay  in  good  shape  no  matter  how  well 
they  are  packed  at  the  start ;  and  they  are  all  hard  ends,  uncom- 
monly fond  of  hunting  out  and  burrowing  in  the  tender  places  in  a 
fellow's  back. 

"  Now  I  will  put  some  tea  and  meat  and  bread  in  my  pack,  and 


56  CITY   BOYS   IN    THE   WOODS. 

tie  a  tea-pail  on  the  outside  of  it,  and  each  of  us  must  take  one  tin 
cup.  There's  nothing  like  tea  in  the  woods  in  a  cold  climate.  It's 
better  than  coffee  or  any  other  kind  of  drink.  Woodsmen  use  al- 
most nothing  else  in  all  such  countries  the  world  over,  I  have  been 
told.  But  of  all  the  drinks  that  are  brought  into  these  woods, 
liquor  is  the  worst.  Nothing  will  play  a  man  out  so  quick.  When 
within  twenty  minutes  or  so  of  camp,  when  very  much  exhausted, 
or  after  camp  is  reached,  when  a  fire  must  be  built  and  it's  very 
cold,  it  sometimes  may  do  good ;  but  even  then  one  tin  of  hot  tea  is 
worth  a  gallon  of  it.  This  is  one  of  the  greatest  and  commonest 
mistakes  city  people  make  up  here.  Sometimes  half  the  weight  of 
their  stuff  will  be  in  bottles  of  whiskey,  or  something  of  that  kind. 
A  person  who  spends  winter  after  winter  prowling  about  these  woods, 
as  I  have  done,  where  the  snow  gets  five  and  six  feet  deep  on  a  level, 
and  the  thermometer  remains  below  zero  for  days,  ought  to  know 
something  about  this  kind  of  thing.  When  hardship  has  been  en- 
dured and  is  over,  liquor  may  at  times  be  of  some  use,  but  while 
hardship  is  being  endured  it  is  clear  poison. 

"  You  had  better  leave  your  outer  shirts  here  in  camp,  your  un- 
dershirts will  soon  be  wet  through  under  the  pack  with  perspira- 
tion, and  you  will  want  your  outer  shirts  dry  to  put  on  when  we 
get  back.  You  must,  however,  take  your  coats,  for  though  while 
travelling  you  will  be  warm  enough,  when  you  stop  to  rest  and 
take  off  your  packs  you  will  be  chilled  through  unless  you  have 
something  warm  to  put  on. 

"  You  should  take  turns  at  the  pack-basket,  and  the  one  that  car- 
ries the  knapsack  must  carry  the  rifle  too.  I  have  put  about  fifty 
pounds  in  my  pack,  and  I  must  take  my  axe  besides.  Your  packs 
will  weigh  about  twenty-five  pounds  apiece. 

"  Now  everything  is  ready.     Let's  back  our  loads  and  be  off." 

"  Is  the  rifle  loaded,  Mr.  Dant  P  asked  Harry,  to  whom  it  and 
the  knapsack  had  fallen. 

"  No,  and  it  don't  need  to  be  now.  It's  a  repeating  rifle.  The 
magazine  is  full,  and  it  won't  take  a  second  to  put  a  cartridge  in 
the  barrel  if  we  want  to  shoot.  We  have  a  rule  never  to  carry  a 
cartridge  in  the  barrel  of  a  rifle  when  in  the  woods,  unless  we  are 


SPOTTING   A   LINE. 


alone,  or  unless  the  man  who  carries  it  leads  the  way.  "  Travel- 
ling through  the  woods  is  rough  work,  and  every  one  gets  more 
or  less  falls.  So  there  is  only  one  safe  rule,  and  that  is  to  keep 
your  rifle-barrel  empty  as  long  as  any  one  is  ahead  of  you." 

The  trapper  led  the 
way  through  the  forest, 
every  fifteen  or  twenty 
yards  chopping  a  piece 
out  of  each  side  of  some 
tree  so  that  it  could  be 
seen  from  either  direction. 

"  That  we  call  w  spot- 
ting   a    line,' "    he    said. 


A    FOREST    HIGHWAY. 


58  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE    WOODS. 

"  Then,  when  we  have  set  our  traps,  each  of  these  spots  serves  as 
a  guidepost  when  visiting  them.  You  see,  we  are  bound  uphill. 
This  is  to  be  a  sable-line,  and  we  trap  those  animals  on  the  hard 
wood  ridges.  You'll  soon  get  more  open  travelling  and  fewer  wind- 
falls," he  continued,  as  he  saw  that  the  boys  were  becoming  red  in 
the  face  and  out  of  breath. 

Every  little  while  he  would  strike  some  large  tree  with  the  butt 
of  his  axe  and  pass  on.  The  boys  noticed  it,  but  were  too  breath- 
less to  ask  why.  Suddenly  he  stopped  after  so  striking  a  tree,  and 
said,  "  Off  packs  ;  we'll  take  a  rest." 

He  then  fell  to  chopping  at  the  tree  about  four  or  five  feet  from 
the  ground.  The  boys  watched  him  with  admiration.  He  swung 
the  keen  axe  as  though  it  were  a  feather,  every  blow  falling  exactly 
in  the  cut  left  by  its  predecessor.  At  first  this  did  not  seem  to  pro- 
duce much  effect.  Then  a  great  chunk  of  wood  sprang  out  from 
where  the  axe  had  been  applied,  disclosing  a  hollow  in  the  trunk 
of  the  tree. 

"  Are  you  going  to  cut  that  tree  down,  Mr.  Dant  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"  Oh  no,  I  am  making  a  place  for  a  trap.  If  the  trap  is  not 
housed  in  some  way,  the  snow  will  soon  cover  it  so  that  it  will  not 
spring.  Besides,  a  baited  trap  must  be  set  so  that  the  animal  can 
get  at  the  trap  by  only  one  opening,  and  by  going  over  the  trap. 
You  see,  I  cut  the  door  high  enough  to  be  above  the  snow,  and  on 
the  side  opposite  that  from  which  the  snow  is  likely  to  drift.  Now 
we  have  cut  enough.  Let's  fill  the  hole  below  the  opening  to  form 
a  floor,  and  put  a  trap  in  there." 

This  was  soon  done.  The  packs  were  resumed,  and  they  moved 
on.     The  boys,  now  fully  rested,  were  loaded  with  questions. 

"  I  thought  the  sable  was  a  Russian  animal,  Mr.  Dant,"  said 
Harry. 

"  So  it  is.  Our  animal  is  the  pine-marten,  but  it  goes  here  by 
the  name  of  sable." 

"  What  does  it  look  like  ?"  continued  Harry. 

"  It  depends  much  on  the  season  of  the  year.  All  wild  animals 
at  the  approach  of  winter  change  their  clothes,  just  as  you  do ;  and, 
like  yours,  their  summer  clothes  are  not  only  thinner,  but  often  of  a 


A  WEASEL  AND   ITS  VICTIM. 


SETTING   A   SABLE-TRAP.  61 

different  color  from  their  winter  dress.  A  full-grown  sable  is  about 
the  size  of  a  three-quarter-grown  cat,  though  its  legs  are  shorter  and 
its  neck  longer,  like  all  of  the  weasel  kind  of  animals.  In  the  sum- 
mer a  sable  looks  very  much  as  a  gray  cat  would  look  if  it  had 
crawled  through  the  pipe  of  a  coal-stove.  In  the  winter  the  best  of 
them  are  very  much  like  a  red  fox  in  color.  Such  a  skin  is  worth 
about  two  dollars.  I  am  told  the  greater  part  of  them  are  sent  to 
Armenia.  They  are  a  tree-climbing  animal,  and  live  on  mice,  squir- 
rels, and  small  birds." 

"  Are  they  hard  to  trap  V  asked  Dick. 

"  No,  not  very,  if  you  know  how.  But  this  seems  a  pretty 
likely  place.     Suppose  we  take  another  rest  here." 

The  trapper  sounded  the  trees  near  by,  but  none  were  found  to 
be  hollow. 

"  As  we  can't  find  a  hollow  tree,  we'll  have  to  build  here." 

Never  had  the  boys  so  thoroughly  realized  how  utterly  unfit 
they  were  to  live  in  the  woods  on  their  own  resources  as  when 
they  saw  in  what  a  surprisingly  short  time  the  trapper  felled  a 
soft-wood  tree  of  some  size,  cut  a  piece  off  its  butt,  split  it  into 
boards,  and  made  a  little  house  with  sides,  back,  and  roof,  at  the 
foot  of  a  large  tree. 

"  You  see  your  saw  wouldn't  be  good  for  much  at  this  work, 
Harry,"  said  Dick. 

"  Yes,  I  see  that,"  replied  Harry.  "  But  would  it  take  too  much 
time,  Mr.  Dant,  to  show  us  how  you  set  the  trap  ?" 

"  Time  or  no  time  I'll  show  you  any  how.  You  see,  I  first  cut 
this  little  pointed  twig  and  stick  it  upright  in  the  back  part  of  the 
house.  On  this  I  skewer  my  bait.  Any  piece  of  fish  or  meat  will 
do.  You  know  I  told  you  the  sable  was  one  of  the  few  animals  we 
trap  with  bait. 

"  The  next  thing  is  to  mix  the  sweet  and  the  bitter  together, 
just  like  tea  and  sugar,  so  that  the  animal  can't  take  one  without 
getting  the  other.  So  by  the  little  house  we  shut  off  all  approach 
to  the  trap  except  from  one  direction — that  is,  through  the  door ; 
and  that  we  fortify  to  the  best  of  our  ability. 

"  Having  placed  the  bait  near  the  back  side  of  the  house,  we 


62  CITY  BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

next  set  the  trap  thus,  between  the  door  and  the  bait,  so  that  the 
animal  can't  reach  the  bait  except  over  the  trap.  Next  I  go  to 
some  old  log  or  stump  and  get  a  piece  of  rotten  wood,  which  I 
crumble  over  the  set  trap  until  it  is  just  buried  out  of  sight.  But 
the  trencher  of  the  trap,  on  which  the  animal  must  step  to  spring 
it,  is  quite  small.  We  must  make  the  animal  put  his  foot  on  the 
trencher,  or  we  might  better  have  given  him  the  bait  and  left  the 
trap  at  home,  since  it  would  be  less  trouble  and  just  about  as  profit- 
able. So  I  cut  two  twigs,  point  their  ends,  bend  them,  and  place 
one  before  and  one  behind  the  trap,  so  as  to  form  arches  too  high 
for  a  sable  to  step  over  and  too  low  for  him  to  crawl  under.  This 
gives  the  trap  four  chances  at  him,  one  when  he  leaps  the  first  arch, 
and  one  when  he  prepares  to  leap  the  second  arch  on  his  way  in. 
and  the  same  again  on  his  way  out.  A  sable  that  escapes  must 
have  an  uncommon  run  of  luck.  Trapping  is  full  of  little  tricks 
of  that  kind,  and  the  trapper  who  does  not  know  and  practise  them 
stands  a  mighty  poor  show. 

"  Another  rule  in  trapping  is  that  the  trap  must  not  be  chained 
up  solid,  as  you  did  your  traps,  or  the  animal  is  apt  to  leave  only  a 
foot  for  the  trapper's  share,  and  cany  off  its  fur  on  three  legs  for 
its  own.  If  a  trap  is  chained  up  solid,  then  nothing  must  be  within 
reach  that  the  animal  can  get  such  hold  of  so  that  it  can  pull 
against  the  trap  with  all  its  strength.  All  small  trees  and  bushes 
in  reach  must  be  cleared  away,  or  the  trap  must  be  fastened  to  a 
yielding  resistance,  just  as  large  fish  are  caught  with  a  light  but 
limber  rod.  With  valuable  animals  the  trap  is  generally  fastened 
to  a  spring-pole,  which  snatches  them  up  in  the  air  and  clear  of  the 
ground  at  the  first  jump  they  make  when  the  trap  nips  them.  If 
the  animal  is  large,  such  as  a  bear  or  a  lynx,  the  trap  is  fastened  to 
one  end  of  a  loose  log  of  wood,  called  a  l  clog.'  The  animal  ex- 
hausts his  first  vigor  in  turning  double  somersets  over  the  clog 
and  iu  fighting  it.  When  sick  of  that  amusement  it  walks  off,  tow- 
ing the  clog,  and  leaving  a  plain  trail  for  the  trapper  to  follow. 
The  clog  fouls  something  every  few  steps,  and  when  at  last  it  gets 
firmly  lodged  between  some  roots  or  in  a  windfall,  the  animal's 
strength  is  so  exhausted  that  it  can  no  longer  break  loose. 


A  LECTURE   ON   TRAPPING. 


lio 


m£. 


"  There,   I 
guess   I've   told  f» 

you  enough  to   show   you 
that  inspiration  don't  count 
for  much  in  trapping,  and  that 
it    must    be    learned,  just    like 
any  other  business.', 

Their  next  halt  was  where  the 
wind  had  overthrown  a  large  hol- 
low tree,  breaking  off  the  trunk  five 


-***; 


A   SPKING-POLE. 


64 


CITY   BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 


or  six  feet  above  the  ground,  and  leaving  it  still  hanging  to  the 
stump.  In  this  hollow  trunk  a  trap  was  left,  and  with  hardly  a 
pause  they  resumed  their  way. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  farther  on  the  trapper  again  called 
a  halt.  "  Take  off  your  packs  and  put  on  your  coats,"  he  said. 
"  This   place   ought  to  be   a  mighty  good   one   for   sable,  and  it 

ought  to  yield  me  a  fisher 

f-  ~~  '       ^^^^^^^Ks       or   tw<>   tmrmo    the    season. 

"'-^^i^fflSI^Pl       ^   W^  ta^e  me  (lu^e  a  ^' 
tie  time  to  fix  up  as  I  want 

to." 

As  he  spoke  he  attacked 
a  fir-tree  about  a  foot  and 
a  half  in  diameter  with  his 
axe,  and  soon  brought  it 
crashing  down.  He  then 
split  from  one  side  of  the 
stump,  which  projected 
about  five  feet  above  the 
ground,  a  board  three  feet 
long.  He  next  proceeded 
to  chop  into  the  top  of  the 
stump  in  such  a  way  as  to 
form  a  box  about  a  foot 
high — or  rather  three  sides 
of  a  box,  the  bottom  or  floor, 
one  side,  and  a  back.  He 
then  nailed  the  board  he  had 
first  split  off  in  its  original 
position,  and  the  box  was  complete,  all  except  the  top  or  roof.  A 
couple  of  pieces  split  from  the  prostrate  trunk  of  the  tree  made 
that,  and  the  house  was  complete. 

"  There,"  said  the  trapper,  regarding  his  work  with  some  satis- 
faction, "that's  the  way  a  sable-trap  ought  to  be  set.  You  have 
now  seen  all  the  ways  we  use  for  sable  in  this  country.  The  hollow 
tree  is  very  good,  but  you  remember  that  we  had  to  fill  the  hollow 


A    MOUNTAIN    BROOK. 


WW: 


TRAPPING   FISHER.  67 

from  the  ground  up  to  a  level  with  the  door  of  the  house,  to  make 
a  floor  for  the  trap  to  lie  on.  But  every  sable  that  is  trapped  there 
will  root  out  all  the  stuff  we  have  put  in,  so  that  we  will  have  to 
fill  it  again  every  time  the  trap  is  reset.  The  hollow-tree  trunk  is 
first-rate,  but  you  can't  find  them  very  often  where  you  want  them. 
The  cubby -house  built  of  splits  on  the  ground  is  the  easiest  way,  but 
it  is  always  being  snowed  up,  so  that  in  the  end  it  catches  less  and 
gives  more  trouble  than  any  of  the  others.  This  last  takes  more 
time  in  the  beginning,  but  it  pays  altogether  the  best  in  the  end,  for 
once  finished,  it  is  done  for  good. 

"  I  will  now  fix  the  trap  as  though  for  a  fisher,  as  indeed  every 
trap  on  a  sable-line  ought  to  be  fixed,  for  they  are  great  chaps  to 
follow  up  a  sable-line  and  steal  the  bait,  and  to  eat  up  such  sable  as 
may  have  been  already  caught  as  well.  But  on  a  new  line  like  this 
we  seldom  have  time  beforehand  to  do  just  what  we  would  like  to 
do.  So,  ordinarily  we  just  drive  the  gump-wedge  into  the  tree  where 
the  trap  is  placed,  and  let  it  go  at  that." 

«  The  what  V  asked  Dick. 

"  The  gump-wedge.  You  see  that  there  is  an  iron  ring  and  also 
an  iron  wedge  on  the  loose  end  of  the  chains  attached  to  these  small- 
sized  traps.  We  call  that  wedge  a  '  gump-wedge,'  and  by  it,  when 
we  wish  to  do  so,  nail  the  chain  fast  to  the  tree.  But  now  I  propose 
to  use  the  ring  to  fasten  the  chain  and  trap,  for  we  are  planning  for 
a  fisher  as  well  as  sable ;  and  since  it  is  a  ten-dollar  instead  of  a  two- 
dollar  prize,  it  requires  a  little  more  consideration." 

The  trapper  then  proceeded  to  cut  down  every  bush  and  small 
tree  within  ten  feet  of  where  his  trap  was  to  be,  except  one  tough 
bush.  He  next  cut  a  pole  about  five  feet  long,  split  one  end,  put 
the  ring  at  the  end  of  the  trap-chain  over  the  split  end  of  the  pole, 
and  drove  a  wedge  into  the  split,  thus  making  that  end  of  the  pole 
so  large  that  the  ring  could  no  longer  be  pulled  off.  He  then  tied 
the  other  end  of  the  pole  to  the  bush. 

"  There's  quite  a  lot  of  philosophy  in  that  set,"  he  said  to  the 
boys.  "Along  comes  Mr.  Fisher  prowling  about  where  he  has  no 
business,  and  gets  nipped  by  the  trap.  Instantly  the  air  is  full  of 
chains,  traps,  and  fur,  flying  about  like  a  pinwheel.     When  he  gets 


68  CITY  BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

sick  of  that,  he  begins  to  pull  and  drag.  But  he  is  just  like  a  trout 
on  a  fly-rod.  The  bush  gives  with,  and  recovers  itself  from,  even- 
strain  he  makes.  He  hasn't  half  a  chance  to  put  out  his  strength. 
He  can't  gnaw  the  pole  off,  because  it's  too  thick  for  his  kind  of 
teeth.  He  hasn't  a  carpenter-shop  in  his  mouth,  like  a  beaver.  At 
all  events  he  can  gnaw  the  bush  off,  or  at  least  the  string  which  ties 
the  pole  to  the  bush.  Checkmated  again;  the  pole  is  so  much  longer 
than  the  chain  of  the  trap  that  he  cannot  reach  the  bush.  There  is 
but  one  thing  for  that  fisher  to  do,  and  that  is  to  practise  resigna- 
tion, for  his  day  has  come.  Still,  if  I  find  a  fisher  is  working  on 
one  of  my  lines,  I  generally  rig  a  spring-pole,  and  attach  the  trap- 
chain  to  that.  Then  the  first  jump  the  fisher  makes  after  the  trap 
snaps  him,  releases  the  spring-pole  and  snatches  Mr.  Fisher  up  in 
the  air,  to  dangle  there  until  it  dies  or  the  trapper  comes  along  and 
clubs  it." 

"  How  often  do  you  visit  your  traps,  Mr.  Dant  ?" 

"  I  try  to  look  at  them  once  a  week.  Trappers  generally  man- 
age it  this  way  up  here.  They  start  from  the  home-camp  along  one 
of  their  lines  at  daybreak  Monday  morning,  and  follow  it  till  even- 
ing, when  they  camp.  The  next  morning  they  are  off  again  over  a 
continuation  of  the  line  till  evening,  when  they  camp  again — and  so 
on.  The  line  is  like  a  very  irregular  loop,  having  its  beginning  and 
end  at  the  home-camp,  and  long  enough  to  take  from  daybreak  on 
Monday  until  Saturday  evening  to  go  over  it  and  attend  to  the  traps." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,  Mr.  Dant,"  asked  Dick,  "  that  if  an  ani- 
mal gets  into  one  of  your  traps  say  an  hour  after  you  have  left  it, 
that  it  has  to  stay  there  a  week  before  you  come  back  again  to  take 
it  out?" 

"  That's  about  the  size  of  it.  It's  awful  tough  medicine  for  the 
fur-bearing  animals.  I've  often  thought  if  the  ladies  who  wear  the 
furs  we  trap  only  knew  the  agonies  the  poor  animals  who  grew 
them  had  suffered,  there  would  soon  be  an  end  to  our  business.  If 
the  most  of  those  we  trap  were  not  themselves  such  cruel,  blood- 
thirsty creatures,  I  don't  know  as  I  could  have  much  heart  in  trap- 
ping. Most  of  them  only  get  what  they  give  to  every  living  thing 
they  come  across  that  they  can  master." 


DESCRIPTION   OF   A   FISHER. 


69 


"  What  is  a  fisher,  Mr.  Dant  ?"  asked  Harry. 

"  A  fisher  is  about  the  size  of  a  full-grown  cat,  but  with  the  long 
neck,  short  legs,  and  thin  body  of  all  the  weasel  family  of  animals. 
Most  people  call  them  black,  though  really  the  fur  is  nearly  black 
at  the  root  and  gray  at  the  tip.  The  older  they  are  the  grayer 
they  become.  I  have  seen  some  almost  white  on  the  head  and 
shoulders.  Sometimes  they  have  a  white  patch  or  stripe  under  the 
chin,  and  sometimes  not.  It  has  a  long,  rather  bushy  tail.  It's  a 
mighty  enterprising  creature,  and  as  full  of  fight  as  an  egg  is  full  of 
meat.  When  you  walk  up  to  one  in  a  trap,  to  pay  your  respects 
with  a  club,  it'll  show  more  teeth  and  claws  than  would  fit  out  a 
harrow;  and  you  want  to  keep  clear  of  them  too,  for  it's  no 
respecter  of  persons.  It's  a  tree-climber,  and  lives  on  any  bird  or 
small  animal  it  can  catch.  Some  people  call  it  the  '  black  cat.'  Why 
it  is  called  a  fisher,  beats  me,  for  it  never  fishes,  like  the  otter  or 
mink,  or  eats  fish,  as  far  as  I  know.  It's  as  valuable  fur  as  we  get 
up  here.  When  I  catch  a  fisher  I  catch  a  good  ten-dollar  bill  at 
the  same  time.  They  are  not  very  plenty — I  mean  the  fisher  are 
not,  though  perhaps  I  might,  with  equal  truth,  say  the  same  of  the 
ten-dollar  bills  to  be  made  by  trapping." 

While  this  conversation  was  in  progress  the  packs  had  been  re- 
sumed, and  soon  afterwards  the  stream,  which  had  been  their  first 
objective,  was  reached. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Lunch  at  the  Little  River. — Camp-fires  in  the  Woods. — The  Caribou. — Lost. — How 
a  Woodsman  finds  his  Way  in  the  Forest.— A  Deer-road  and  a  Trail. 


A   TURBULENT  mountain 


z\ 


stream,  from  eighty  to  one 


hundred  feet  wide,  overshad- 
owed with  lofty  spruce-trees, 
now  lay  before  them.      One 
gigantic  pine,  the  growth  of 
centuries,  towered  far  above 
the  surrounding  forest,  sup- 
porting in   its   blasted  top 
an    enormous    fish  -  hawk's 
nest.     Another  pine,  equal 
in    size    and    age,  over- 
thrown   by    some    recent 
storm,    lay     across     the 
stream,  bridging   it   from 
side   to    side.       In    every 
direction  the  woods  were 
comparatively     free    from 
underbrush,  permitting  an 
unusual     extent     of    view. 
The   music  of  the   running 
water,  the   murmur    of   the 
wind  through  the  tree-tops, 
the    pure    and    bracing    air, 
their  perfect  health  and  vig- 
or and  relief  from  the  cruel 
anxiety  of  the  last  two  days, 


AT    THE   LITTLE   RIVER. 


71 


A   TURBULENT   MOUNTAIN   STREAM. 


all  combined  to  make  the 
boys  think  it  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  spots  they 
had  ever  seen.  Nor  were 
they  far  wrong. 

Upon  the  bank  of  the  stream  the  trapper  paused,  threw  off  his 
pack,  and  said, 

"  We  may  as  well  lunch  here,  boys,  as  our  work  is  now  about 
half  done." 

With  a  vivid  recollection  of  their  own  efforts  to  prepare  a  meal 


72  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

in  the  open  air,  even  with  the  help  of  a  stove,  the  boys  watched  the 
trapper,  half  expecting  to  see  him  experience  at  least  some  of  the 
difficulties  they  had  met. 

But  not  so.  He  pulled  a  sheet  of  bark  from  a  neighboring  white 
birch  tree,  gathered  some  pine  bark  from  a  rotting  old  stump,  and 
had  a  fire  in  less  than  three  minutes.  He  then  cut  a  green  pole 
about  ten  feet  long,  thrust  its  butt  under  a  root  so  that  the  smaller 
end  projected  over  the  fire,  and  hung  on  it  his  tea-pail,  filled  with 
water.  Then  he  cut  some  long  green  sticks  and  skewered  his  meat 
on  them.  The  pine  bark  had  burned  to  red-hot  coals  by  the  time 
the  water  was  boiling.  He  then  removed  the  pail,  put  in  his  tea 
to  steep,  and  giving  each  of  the  boys  a  stick  furnished  with  a  piece 
of  meat,  showed  them  how  to  broil  it.  In  less  than  twenty  min- 
utes after  they  had  halted  they  were  eating. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Dant,  did  you  build  your  fire  out  here  on  the  stones, 
instead  of  in  the  woods,  where  fuel  and  poles  were  so  much 
handier?"  asked  Dick. 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  a  forest  on  fire,  or  a  forest  before  and 
after  it  has  been  burned  over?  If  you  had  you  would  hardly  ask 
me.  A  broken  leg  would  not  be  as  great  a  misfortune  to  me  as  to 
have  a  fire  run  through  these  woods.  The  game  would  be  driven 
away  for  many  years,  and  all  the  fur-bearing  animals,  except  those 
living  in  the  water,  would  be  destroyed.  Nothing  can  be  more 
lovely  than  this  forest  seems  to  me.  Every  day  and  at  every  step  I 
notice  something  new  and  beautiful.  It  is  my  home.  A  fire  would 
change  it  into  a  desert.  Every  tree  would  be  blasted,  and  instead 
of  the  grand  forest  we  now  see,  a  forest  of  naked  trunks  like  tele- 
graph-poles would  take  its  place.  Even  the  very  ground  would  be 
burned  away,  until  nothing  but  rocks,  gravel,  and  ashes  would  be 
left.  The  surface  earth  in  the  woods  is  nothing  but  old  wood  and 
leaves,  and  it  will  smoulder  and  burn  like  peat.  So  we  never  build 
a  fire  on  it,  if  we  can  help  it,  unless  the  ground  is  quite  wet.  If  we 
have  to,  we  drench  the  fire  and  surrounding  ground  well  with 
water  before  we  leave." 

"  I  begin  to  think  you  have  a  reason  for  almost  everything  you 
do,"  said  Harry.     "  Perhaps  there  was  a  reason  why  you  took  all 


A  CARIBOU.  75 

the  trouble  to  get  that  pine  bark  for  the  fire  instead  of  the  dry 
wood  almost  under  your  hand." 

"  Oh  yes,  there  was  a  reason  for  that.  Pine  bark  blazes  for  a 
little  while  only,  and  then  turns  to  hot  coals  free  from  smoke.  It 
gives  a  quicker  and  hotter  fire  than  wood,  and  a  much  better  one 
to  cook  meat  over.  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  thought  of  it  be- 
fore, but  this  life  of  mine  up  here  seems  to  be  a  very  free  and  in- 
dependent life.  I  seem  to  be  absolutely  my  own  master.  In  the 
cities  they  have  laws,  and  a  policeman  on  almost  every  corner  to 
make  people  obey  them.  No  law  of  man  reaches  up  here  in  the 
wilderness.  In  the  city  a  man  has  a  thousand  and  one  engage- 
ments and  obligations  which  force  him  to  do  certain  things  day 
after  clay  whether  he  likes  it  or  not.  I  can  go  north,  south,  east  or 
west,  at  any  time,  night  or  day,  that  I  please.  But  really,  come  to 
think  of  it,  I  don't  see  that  I  am  so  much  more  free  after  all.  In 
the  settlements  a  man  may  break  the  law  and  not  be  found  out, 
or  if  found  out  he  may  not  be  caught.  But  up  here  there  are 
laws  in  force  from  which  there  is  no  escape  or  concealment,  obe- 
dience to  which  is  the  price  of  life  itself.  I  mean  the  laws  of 
nature.  Up  here,  dependent  entirely  on  myself,  if  I  wilfully  or 
ignorantly  violate  these  laws,  I  cannot  shelter  myself  behind  some 
other  person  who  has  obeyed  them.  If  I  omit  to  do  the  right 
thing  at  the  right  time,  or  do  the  wrong  thing  at  any  time,  my 
own  skin  must  pay  for  it.  You  are  not  far  out  in  saying  I  have 
a  reason  for  almost  everything  I  do  ;  and  the  reason  is,  that  I 
have  learned  by  experience  what  I  must  do.  Life  in  the  woods 
requires  its  knowledge  and  skill  just  as  it  requires  knowledge  and 
skill  to  live  in  the  settlements  and  make  steam-engines.  The  prin- 
cipal difference  is  that  in  the  one  case  ignorance  would  run  a  man 
in  debt  and  make  him  fail  in  business,  while  in  the  other  it  might 
cost  him  his  life." 

Suddenly  the  trapper  paused,  listened  for  a  moment,  and  then 
whispered,  "  Grab  the  rifle  and  hide  behind  these  bushes.  Be 
quick,  but  be  quiet  about  it.     I  hear  a  caribou  coming." 

The  boys  did  as  they  were  told,  though  they  could  not  see  or 
hear  an  indication  that  there  was  an  animal  within  forty  miles  of 


76  CITY   BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 

them.  Soon  they  heard  a  branch  snap,  and  then  another.  Then 
there  was  a  pause. 

u  There,  don't  }tou  see  him  ?"  whispered  the  trapper. 

"  No,"  replied  Harry,  who  had  the  rifle  ;  "  where?" 

"  Eight  by  that  spruce  near  the  little  white  birch.  You've  got 
to  shoot  quick.     He  sees  the  fire  and  won't  stand  long." 

In  vain  Harry  strained  his  eyes.  Just  as  he  was  about  to  pass 
the  rifle  to  the  trapper  and  beg  him  to  fire,  the  animal  gave  a 
bound  and  vanished.  For  some  moments  the  astonished  boys 
could  hear  it  crashing  through  the  woods.  Then  the  sound  died 
away,  and  their  astonishment  gave  place  to  a  keen  sense  of  morti 
fication. 

"  Couldn't  you  see  him  ?"  asked  the  trapper.  ik  He  was  in  plain 
sight." 

"  Yes,"  said  Harry,  "  I  saw  him  well  enough  all  the  time ;  but  I 
thought  it  was  a  stump  till  it  moved.  It  didn't  look  like  a  deer 
at  all." 

"  You  mean  it  didn't  look  like  the  deer  in  the  picture-books,  I 
suppose.  Animals  in  the  woods  never  do.  All  you  ever  see  is  a 
patch  of  color  differing  very  little  from  surrounding  objects  ;  that  is, 
unless  the  animal  is  in  motion.  There,  you  need  not  feel  so  bad 
about  it.  Nine  people  out  of  ten  make  the  same  mistake  at  first. 
We  have  plenty  of  meat.  Still,  I  should  have  liked  you  to  have 
that  head  to  take  home.     It  was  a  nice  one." 

Seeing  that  his  reassurance  did  little  to  soften  the  disappoint- 
ment, the  trapper  changed  the  subject  with  that  kindly  tact  which 
was  one  of  his  most  marked  characteristics. 

"By-the-way,  boys,  you  don't  know  you  are  lost,  do  you?  In 
what  direction  does  camp  lie  ?" 

"  So  long  as  we  have  found  you,  we  can't  be  lost  very  much," 
replied  Dick.  Then  he  thought  for  a  few  moments,  and  pointed 
towards  where  he  thought  the  camp  was. 

"  What  ?"  exclaimed  Harry.  "  That  isn't  the  way.  It  lies  right 
over  there  in  line  with  that  big  pine-tree ;"  and  quite  a  warm  dis- 
pute arose  between  them.  Each  cast  an  eye  from  time  to  time  at 
the  trapper,  hoping  to  gain  some  hint  as  to  who  was  right  from 


WHERE   DOES    CAMP   LIE?  79 

his  face.  But  he  did  nothing  but  listen,  smoke,  and  laugh.  At  last 
they  appealed  to  him  to  decide  between  them. 

"  You  will  be  woodsmen  one  of  these  days,  boys,  if  you  keep  at 
it,  but  you  still  have  something  to  learn.  You,  Harry,  would  have 
taken  a  bee-line  for  the  settlement.  You,  Dick,  would  have  gone 
over  the  boundary  into  Canada.  The  camp  lies  in  neither  place, 
but  over  there,  just  about  half-way  between.1' 

The  boys  were  more  than  astonished  to  find  themselves  so  far 
out.  At  last  Dick  said,  "  We  came  in  such  a  crooked  way  that  I 
suppose  I  must  have  got  turned  round  somehow." 

"  You  always  have  to  go  in  a  crooked  way  through  these  woods," 
answered  the  trapper, tk  for  the  longest  way  round  is  almost  always 
the  shortest  way  home.  Hills,  swamps,  and  ponds  prevent  anything 
that  can't  swim,  walk,  and  fly  from  following  a  straight  course  up 
here.  There  are  lots  of  places  where  the  wind  has  raked  through 
the-trees,  and  piled  them  together  like  jackstraws,  where  you  couldn't, 
if  loaded,  make  a  hundred  feet  in  a  hundred  minutes,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  danger  of  a  broken  arm  or  leg.  Such  places  must  be  gone 
round." 

"  Then  a  compass  isn't  of  much  use  ?"  said  Harry. 

"  Not  unless  you  know  how  to  use  it,  and  that's  quite  a  different 
thing  from  using  it  on  the  water.  There  a  straight  line  is  taken 
and  followed.  Here  you  go  wandering  about,  seldom  in  the  same 
course  for  any  five  consecutive  minutes,  but  the  average  of  all  the 
directions  taken  must  be  the  same  straight  line  which  would  have 
been  followed  on  water." 

"  I  suppose  you  know  the  woods  so  well  that  you  can  always  tell 
where  you  are  ?"  said  Harry. 

"  Not  by  a  jugful,"  replied  the  trapper,  "  nor  any  other  man, 
either.  There  are  peculiar-looking  places  in  the  woods  which,  of 
course,  I  recognize,  but  as  a  general  thing  the  woods  in  one  place 
look  very  much  like  the  same  kind  of  woods  in  another,  just  as  one 
place  on  the  ocean  looks  like  another.  When  I  have  plenty  of  time 
and  am  not  hurried,  I  always  choose  a  new  course  to  any  place  I'm 
bound  to,  so  as  to  study  the  country  and  keep  track  of  where  the 
game  is  working.     If  I  didn't  I  wouldn't  know  where  to  trap  and 


80 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


hunt  to  the  best  advantage. 
It's  just  as  much  part  of  my 
business  as  to  know  how  to 
set  my  traps.    Often  and  of- 
ten I  couldn't  say  just  where 
I  wras,  but  I  always  know 
where  the  place  I'm  bound 
to  is,  and  how  to  get  there." 
"  How  do   you   do   it  ?" 
asked  Dick. 
"  The  two  things  which  a  woodsman  relies  on  most  to  show  him 
his  way  are  the  direction  in  which  the  streams  flow  and  the  sun. 
Suppose  I   was  a  stranger  in  this  neighborhood,  and  was  in  the 
woods  anywhere  within  ten  or  twelve  miles  of  here.     I  had  heard 


WHERE    THE    WIND    HAS    RAKED   THROUGH 
THE   TREES.*' 


HOW  A  WOODSMAN  FINDS  HIS  WAY. 


81 


of  the  Forks  and  wanted  to  go  there.  The  first  brook  I  struck 
would  show  me  where  the  main  valley  and  the  river  lay,  since  the 
brook  is  bound  sooner  or  later  to  flow  into  the  river.  But  the 
brook  will  be  crooked,  and  will  probably  flow  through  alder 
swamps  and  beaver-works,  where  travelling  would  be  mighty  mean. 
I  would  then  hunt  for  the  tallest  spruce-tree  I  could  find  which  had 
a  smaller  tree  growing  near  it.  That  don't  take  long  in  these 
woods.  I  would  climb  the  small  tree,  and  from  that  climb  into  the 
big  one  and  go  to  its  very 
top.  From  there  I  would 
get  an  outlook.  All  the  for- 
est through  this  wilderness 
is  pretty  much  like  what 
you  have  seen.  Sometimes 
it's  a  little  thicker  and  some- 
times thinner,  but  as  a  gen- 
eral thing  you  can't  see 
more  than  about  thirty  or 
forty  yards  in  any  direc- 
tion. If  you  want  to  see 
out  over  the  country,  you've 
got  to  climb  for  it.  Hav- 
ing decided  where  to  go,  I'd 
take  the  compass  direction, 
and  notice  how  the  sun 
strikes  me  when  looking 
that  way.  That  is,  if  the 
sun  shines  on  my  left  side,  I 
know  that  if  I  keep  it  shin- 
ing on  my  left  side  I  am  on 
my  course.     As  I  travel  I 

have  to  wander  a  good  deal  from  this  line  for  the  sake  of  easier 
walking,  but  I  keep  track  of  the  sun  all  the  time,  and  know  when  I 
leave  my  course  and  in  what  direction.  The  first  chance  I  have, 
I  work  back,  cross  my  course,  and  go  off  about  as  much  on  the 
other  side,  so  as  to  average  it  up  and  keep  my  general  direction  as 


A  PECULIAR  LOOKING  PLACE. 


82 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


near  right  as  I  conveniently  can.  At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  I 
know  about  what  I  have  done  and  whether  I  am  on  the  line ;  or 
if  off  from  it,  how  much  I  am  off  and  on  which  side.     I  then  take 

a  new  compass  bearing,  see 
how  the  sun  strikes  me  when 
facing  in  that  direction,  and 
go  ahead.  I  want  you  to  re- 
member this,  because  every 
time  we  are  out  of  sight  of 
camp,  and  I  think  of  it,  I  am 
going  to  ask  you  where  it  lies. 
Notice  the  position  of  the  sun 
when  you  start,  and  keep 
watch  of  it.  You  will  then 
know  every  change  of  direc- 
tion we  make,  and  what  the 
average  direction  is.  But  you 
mustn't  forget  that  between 
sunrise  and  sunset  the  sun 
travels  from  east  to  west,  and 
to  make  some  allowance  for 
its  motion.  It's  a  dreadful 
thing  to  be  lost  in  these 
woods,  and  I  don't  mean  to 
give  you  the  chance.  But  if 
we  do  get  separated,  I  intend  you  shall  be  able  to  find  your 
way  back  to  camp  if  anything  I  can  say  will  teach  you  how  to 
do  it." 

"  But  suppose  it's  cloudy  and  the  sun  can't  be  seen — then 
what  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"  Then  it's  harder.  If  the  direction  of  the  hills  and  valleys  is 
known  they  may  serve  as  a  guide.  If  not,  then  get  the  compass 
bearing  of  the  right  course,  which,  we  will  say,  is  north-east.  Then 
pick  out  the  most  distant  object  that  can  be  seen  to  the  north-east, 
pocket  the  compass,  and  go  to  that  object.  You  can  wander  to  and 
fro  as  much  as  you  like,  but  the  object  you  are  aiming  for  must  be 


OX    THE    LITTLE    RIVER. 


HOW    A    WOODSMAN    FINDS    HIS    WAY. 


83 


kept  in  sight.  Having  reached  the  mark,  out  compass  and  pick  out 
a  new  mark  to  the  north-east,  go  to  that,  then  use  the  compass 
again  in  the  same  way,  and  so  on." 

"Can't  you  tell  where  the  north  and  south  are  by  the  moss  on 
the  trees  ?     I  have  certainly  read  so,"  said  Dick. 


ALONG  THE  BANK  OF  THE  STREAM. 


84  CITY  BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

"  There  are  lots  of  things  that  look  all  right  in  a  book  which  are 
not  good  for  much  out  of  it,  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  that's  one. 
The  idea  is  that  the  moss  grows  thickest  on  the  most  sheltered  side 
of  the  tree,  and  that  may  be  so.  But  the  other  notion  that  the 
sheltered  side  must  be  the  south  side,  and  the  bare  side  the  north 
side,  certainly  isn't  true  in  these  woods ;  and  I  don't  think  it's  so 
in  hilly  countries,  if  anywhere.  It  doesn't  agree  with  the  facts 
here,  at  any  rate,  and  it  does  not  seem  to  me  reasonable  either. 
The  cold  winds  may  blow  from  the  north  over  the  tops  of  the  hills, 
but  through  the  valleys  the  same  wind  will  draw  from  many  differ- 
ent directions  according  to  the  shape  of  the  hills,  and  the  exposed 
side  of  the  trees  will  vary  accordingly.     But  we  must  be  moving." 

Kesuming  their  packs,  they  continued  their  way  up  along  the 
bank  of  the  stream  for  about  two  miles,  leaving  a  trap  here  and 
there  on  some  conspicuous  tree. 

There  the  trapper  halted  and  said,  "  The  line  to  camp  begins  at 
this  tree.  It  is  a  spotted  line,  just  like  that  I  made  this  morning 
from  camp  to  the  stream,  only  the  spots  are  three  years  old  and  not 
so  plain.  It's  my  turn  to  play  gentleman  now  and  bring  up  the 
rear.  Dick,  }tou  take  the  lead  for  a  while,  and  let's  see  how  you 
make  out." 

Dick  did  as  he  was  told,  and  for  quite  half  an  hour  they  pur- 
sued their  way  in  silence,  except  when  they  stopped  for  a  moment 
or  two  to  make  some  trifling  repair  to  a  sable-trap.  They  found 
the  line  arranged  like  that  made  in  the  morning,  the  traps  averag- 
ing about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  apart  and  housed  in  the  same  way. 
The  travelling  had  not  been  very  good,  and  at  times  it  was  not 
without  difficulty  and  an  occasional  suggestion  from  the  trapper 
that  Dick  kept  the  line.  Then  they  struck  a  well-worn  trail,  and 
Dick  went  off  on  it  with  a  sigh  of  relief  and  satisfaction.  They 
had  followed  it  for  some  forty  yards  or  so  when  the  trapper  said, 

"  You've  changed  your  mind,  I  suppose,  Dick,  and  intend  to  lie 
out  instead  of  going  back  to  camp." 

"  No,  I  haven't,"  answered  Dick  ;  "  I'm  right  on  the  trail.  It's 
just  as  plain  as  plain  can  be." 

"  But  I  don't  see  any  spotted  trees  on  this  trail ;  and,  as  I  told 


A   DEER-KOAD. 


bo 


you,  the  sable-line  is  spotted  clear  to  camp.  Take  a  look  at  the 
sun.  Are  you  going  in  the  same  direction  in  which  you  started,  or 
in  anything  like  it  ?" 

Dick  was  forced  to  admit  he  was  not. 

"  I  put  you  in  the  lead  on  purpose  to  teach  you  a  lesson.  You 
are  off  the  line,  and  not  on  any  trail;  that  is,  any  trail  that  was 
made  by  man.     This  is  a  deer-road.     If  you  followed  it,  it  would 


AN    OBSTACLE    TO    TRAVEL. 


lead  you  up  into  the  mountains,  grow  gradually  fainter  and  fainter, 
and  finally  disappear  altogether.  Many  and  many  a  poor  fellow 
lost  in  the  woods  has  followed  such  trails  to  his  death.  The  deer 
spend  the  day  up  in  the  hills.  In  the  evening  they  wander  down 
towards  the  water  to  feed,  and  this  is  one  of  the  paths  they  fol- 
low. There  are  thousands  of  them  up  here,  and  you  want  to 
study  it  carefully  so  you  will  know  one  the  next  time  you  see  it. 


sr, 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


Now  we  will  get  back  on  the  line,  and  then,  Harry,  you  may  take 
the  lead.1' 

Harry  took  due  note  of  the  sun  and  kept  a  keen  lookout  for 
the  spots  on  the  trees,  so  all  went  well  for  a  long  time.     At  last 


A    LOXE    FISHERMAN. 


they  came  to  another  path.  Harry  crossed  it  and  kept  on  a  short 
distance,  then  stopped  and  looked  anxiously  round.  He  could  see 
no  spotted  tree. 

"  Hello,  Harry,  what's  this  ?"  called  out  the  trapper  from  the 
rear. 

"  You  don't  fool  me  on  any  deer-road.  I've  learned  that  much, 
anyway,"  replied  Harry.  "  I  know  I've  lost  the  line,  but  I'll  find  it 
again  in  a  few  minutes." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  of  that,"  answered  the  trapper.  kw  But  as  this 
deer-road  leads  direct  to  camp,  and  is  the  same  one  which  you  came 
over  from  the  Forks,  perhaps  you  had  better  look  for  the  line 
here." 

Harry  was  not  a  little  mortified  at  his  mistake,  but  he  bore  it 
with  the  best  ^race  he  could. 


A   DEER-ROAD   OR   A   TRAIL? 


ST 


"  Now  that  you  have  seen  a  deer-road  and  a  trail,  I  may  as  well 
show  you  how  to  tell  them  apart,"  said  the  trapper.  "  A  man's 
foot  is  long  and  broad,  while  a  deer's  foot  is  small  and  narrow. 
Both  walk  in  the  way  that's  easiest  for  them.  A  man,  therefore, 
steps  on  all  the  high  points;  a  deer  steps  between  them.  So 
when  you  see  the  moss  knocked  off  the  higher  points  and  the  pro- 
jecting roots  bare,  you  may  know  that  it  is  done  by  some  long- 
footed  animal  such  as  a  man  or  bear,  and  bear  are  very  scarce  up 
here,  though  plenty  enough  down  around  the  settlement,  where  they 
can  find  more  food.  So  if  you  see  that  the  wear  of  travel  is  all  in 
the  hollows  between  the  roots,  and  that  they  and  the  high  points  in 
the  trail  are  covered  with  moss  or  dirt,  you  may  conclude  it's  a  deer- 
road.  There,  that  old  tree  trunk  which  has  fallen  across  the  trail 
tells  the  story.  You  have  crossed  fifty  or  more  just  like  it  to-day, 
and  found  the  upper  side  of  every  one  of  them  covered  with  moss. 
When  a  man  straddles  over  such  a  log  he  invariably  tears  the  moss 
off.     A  deer  does  not.     Such  a  mark  will  last  a  long  time." 

Soon  afterwards  they  reached  the  home-camp,  quite  tired  from 
their  day's  tramp  and  with  a  ravenous  appetite. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Back  at  Daut's  Camp. — Moose-talk. — A  Hunting  Adventure. — Attacked  by  a  Moose. 


AFTER  supper  that  evening,  the  trapper  sat  on  the  flat  board 
-  which  ran  along  the  foot  of  the  wide  bunk,  which  he  called 
"  the  deacon's  seat."  He  sat  bent  forward,  his  elbows  resting  on  his 
knees,  slowly  puffing  his  pipe,  and  thoughtfully  gazing  into  the  fire, 
as  though  he  could  read  the  future  in  its  dancing  flames.  At  last 
he  spoke : 

"  Didn't  one  of  you  say  something  to  me  about  a  chance  at  a 
moose?  Yes?  I  thought  so.  I've- been  thinking  it  over  a  little. 
I  don't  see  much  more  to  be  done  around  here  until  the  trapping 
season  opens,  so  I  have  four  or  five  spare  days  that  I  can  give  to  it, 
if  you  like.     What  do  you  say  ?" 

Since  the  first  night  in  Dant's  camp,  had  any  good  fairy  given 
the  boys  the  traditional  three  wishes,  this  which  the  trapper  had 
suggested  would  have  been  the  first.  He  had  detected  it  with  his 
usual  shrewdness,  and  though  at  the  cost  of  not  a  little  inconven- 
ience and  some  loss  of  time,  had  determined  to  gratify  their  ambi- 


MOOSE-TALK.  91 

tion  if  he  could.  So  eager  were  the  boys  that  they  were  quite  inco- 
herent in  their  thanks. 

"  You'd  better  hold  your  horses  before  you  go  much  further  into 
the  thanking  business.  Perhaps  we  won't  get  anything  after  all,  ex- 
cept lots  of  hard  work.  That  we  may  safely  count  on.  This  is  a 
betwixt  and  between  season  for  moose-hunting,  but  still  there  is  a 
chance,  and  we'll  take  it.  These  woods  are  too  thick  and  too  noisy 
to  still  hunt  them  in,  until  there  is  a  good  cushion  of  snow  over  the 
ground  to  cover  the  leaves  and  twigs." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  still  hunt  them  V  "  asked  Dick. 

"  To  find  a  fresh  trail  and  follow  it  up  for  a  shot.  But  you 
couldn't  stand  that  sort  of  thing,  anyway.  Why  not  ?  Because  a 
moose  has  the  sharpest  hearing  and  the  keenest  scent  of  any  animal. 
Though  its  nose  may  look  like  a  battered  foot-ball,  and  its  ears  like 
the  sails  of  a  windmill,  they  answer  the  purpose  for  which  noses  and 
ears  were  made  uncommon  well.  Many's  the  time  they  have  been 
good  enough  or  bad  enough,  according  as  you  look  at  it  from  the 
moose  or  my  side  of  the  question,  to  make  me  almost  ready  to  tear 
out  my  hair  with  disappointment,  till  I  was  as  bald  as  a  coot.  I  have 
followed  a  moose  for  every  minute  of  daylight  for  three  or  four  days 
on  end,  camping  just  where  night  overtook  me,  and  off  again  as  soon 
as  it  was  light  enough  to  see ;  and  when  I  thought  I  had  a  dead-sure 
thing  at  last,  a  step  on  some  little  dry  twig,  or  a  rasp  of  my  clothes 
against  some  bush,  or  a  sudden  shift  of  wind,  has  started  the  animal 
off  like  a  runaway  engine.  Like  most  animals,  they  are  not  very 
sharp-sighted.  But  if  a  man  wants  to  get  the  best  of  a  moose's  nose 
and  ears  still  hunting,  he's  got  to  lay  awake  nights  thinking  how  he 
is  going  to  do  it,  and  get  up  early  in  the  morning  to  carry  out  his 
plans,  and  then  he'll  fail  oftener  than  not.  But  I  had  rather  kill 
one  moose  still  hunting  than  ten  any  other  way,  because  it's  a  trick 
none  but  a  good  woodsman  can  do.  But  that's  neither  here  nor 
there.  You  couldn't  stand  the  hardship,  and  you'd  be  sure  to  make 
some  kind  of  a  noise  just  at  the  wrong  time ;  and  we  haven't  any 
snow.     So  that  way  is  out  of  the  question." 

"  I  have  heard  my  uncle  tell  about  still  hunting  elk  out  West," 
said  Harrv. 


92  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  trapper.  "  But  still  hunting  out  there  and  here 
are  two  very  different  things.  There  the  country  is  comparatively 
open,  you  can  see  your  game  a  long  way  off,  and  there's  a  chance 
for  long  shots.  Here,  in  the  places  where  a  moose  would  lay  up  for 
the  da}7,  it's  generally  almost  as  thick  as  the  hair  on  a  cat's  back, 
you  can't  see  your  game  until  you  are  nearly  on  top  of  it,  and  you 
seldom  shoot  over  thirty  or  forty  yards.  Then  out  there  you  can 
carry  your  grub,  blankets,  and  even  a  tent,  on  mule-back.  Here 
you've  got  to  be  your  own  mule,  and  can't  carry  an  ounce  of  any- 
thing that  isn't  absolutely  necessary  to  keep  the  breath  of  life  in 
your  body.  But  there's  no  use  of  talking  about  it.  Still  hunting 
is  out  of  the  question  for  us." 

"  But  isn't  there  some  other  way  ?"  asked  Harry,  in  dismay. 

"  Yes,  there  are  several  other  ways.  But  they  are  all  uncertain, 
since  we  must  depend  on  the  moose  coming  to  us,  or  at  least  meet- 
ing us  half-way,  instead  of  going  to  it.  We  can  patrol  the  water  at 
night  on  the  chance  of  catching  one  crossing,  or  I  might  call  one  up. 
But  it's  settled  that  we  try  it,  is  it  %  All  right.  Then  we  light  out 
of  here  for  Canada  just  as  soon  after  daylight  to-morrow  as  we  can 
swallow  our  breakfast." 

"  That  will  be  grand,"  said  Dick.  "  I've  never  been  out  of  the 
United  States,  and  I  should  like  to  see  Canada  first-rate." 

"  Canada  is  quite  a  little  tract  of  country,"  replied  the  trapper, 
with  a  smile,  "  and  I  hardly  think  you'll  be  able  to  take  it  all  in  in 
this  trip." 

"  I  didn't  exactly  mean  that,"  answered  Dick.  "  I  meant  I  would 
like  to  say  I  had  been  in  Canada.  But  why  do  we  go  over  there  \ 
Are  moose  much  more  plenty  ?" 

"  No.  I  don't  think  there  is  much  to  choose  in  that  respect. 
There  are  plenty  of  moose  around  here.  But  I  have  a  camp  and 
a  good  canoe  at  a  certain  place  in  Canada  where  we  can  be  com- 
fortable. The  country  over  there  is  more  open  than  here,  so  I 
think  our  chances  will  be  a  good  deal  better.  Besides,  it's  a  month 
and  more  since  anybody  has  been  there,  so  the  game  has  not  been 
disturbed  and  won't  be  so  suspicious." 

"  Tell  us  something  about  moose,  Mr.  Dant,"  said  Harrv. 


Btili 


HEAD   OF    BULL    MOOSE. 


MOOSE-TALK. 


95 


"  A  moose  is  a  long-legged,  short-bodied  animal,  with  a  short 
thick  neck  and  a  little  stub  of  a  tail.  I  have  heard  of  them  as  high 
as  eight  feet  at  the  fore-shoulder,  but  I  rather  guess  those  moose 
grew  after  they  were  killed.  You  know,  I  suppose,  that  fish  and 
game  often  do.  If  we  say  that  seven  feet,  or  seven  feet  one  or  two 
inches,  is  as  tall  as  they  ever  grow,  I  think  we  will  do  the  moose  full 


MOOSE   AT  BAT. 


96  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE    WOODS. 

justice.  On  the  end  of  its  neck  it  has  a  head,  not  as  big  as  all  out- 
doors, it  is  true,  but  still  a  mighty  big  head  all  the  same,  and  on  that 
head  are  mounted  a  nose  and  a  pair  of  ears  that  look  as  though 
they  had  been  made  for  a  head  twice  as  big.  There's  nothing  small 
about  a  moose  except  its  eyes  and  its  tail.  I  suppose  that  it  takes 
so  much  nourishment  to  make  and  keep  up  such  a  nose  and  pair  of 
ears  they  have  to  economize  on  eyes  and  tail. 

"  A  moose  has  just  two  objects  in  life — to  keep  its  hide  whole 
and  its  stomach  full.  They  spend  their  days  upon  the  side  of  some 
mountain,  each  bull  by  himself,  and  each  cow  by  herself,  with  only  a 
calf  or  two  of  different  ages,  if  she  has  any,  for  company.  There  it 
lies  till  towards  sundown,  snoozing  and  chewing  the  cud  like  a  cow. 
But  it  don't  make  any  difference  how  much  the  rest  of  the  animal 
may  doze,  its  nose  and  ears  are  always  the  widest  kind  of  awake. 
ISot  the  faintest  sound  nor  the  least  taint  in  the  air  escapes  notice. 
And  they  seem  to  have  such  judgment  about  sounds,  too.  Last 
November  a  year  ago,  I  was  sneaking  up  on  a  moose,  when  a  tree 
fell  in  the  woods  close  by.  It  made  me  pretty  near  jump  out  of  my 
skin,  but  the  moose  just  lazily  turned  its  head  and  stared  in  that 
direction  for  a  few  minutes  as  unconcerned  as  you  please.  But  if, 
instead  of  that,  I  had  snapped  one  single  twig  as  big  as  a  lead-pen- 
cil, that  moose  would  have  dusted  out  of  there  as  if  the  ground  had 
suddenly  grown  red-hot  under  its  feet. 

k>  If  it  hears  anything  it  thinks  suspicious,  and  it's  not  too  near, 
it  will  steal  away  so  quietly  that  you  can't  hear  the  faintest  sound. 
In  the  darkest  night  not  a  leaf  will  rustle  nor  a  twig  snap.  A 
person  might  think  it  was  the  ghost  of  a  moose  if  he  didn't  hunt 
up  the  tracks  the  next  day,  for  even  a  ghost  could  not  vanish  more 
silently.  But  if  it  scents  danger,  particularly  if  the  scent  is  of 
man.  you'd  think  the  whole  country  was  being  broken  up.  If  you 
ploughed  a  locomotive  through  these  woods  it  would  hardly  make 
more  noise. 

"  I  was  off  with  a  gentleman  last  October,  over  at  a  piece  of 
water  we  will  pass  to-morrow.  It's  an  uncommon  good  valley  for 
game  through  which  that  stream  flows,  but  a  mighty  poor  one  for 
the  hunter.     The  brook,  for  reallv  it  isn't  anvthing  else,  wouldn't 


A  HUNTING  ADVENTURE.  99 

be  boatable  at  all  if  it  were  not  for  a  lot  of  beaver  dams,  and  that 
the  valley  there  is  level  and  boggy.  The  stream  is  narrow  in  all 
places ;  often  it  is  not  wide  enough  to  turn  the  canoe  round.  The 
banks,  too,  are  high,  and  covered  in  many  places  with  tall  grass  so 
you  can't  look  over.  The  woods  in  some  places  come  to  the  bank, 
but  oftener  lie  fifty  or  sixty  feet  back.  The  canoe  I  had  over  there 
was  one  of  the  kind  you  have  to  part  your  hair  in  the  middle  in. 
Any  attempt  to  stand  up  in  it  to  shoot  over  the  bank  would  have 
stood  us  both  on  our  heads  in  the  drink  in  a  little  less  than  no  time. 
So  you  see  our  only  chance  was  to  catch  our  game  in  the  water,  or 
in  one  of  the  very  few  places  where  the  bank  was  low. 

"  Desperate  hard  luck  we  had  that  night.  A  beautiful  full 
moon  made  things  pretty  light  except  where  the  shadow  of  the 
woods  fell  on  the  water.  Well,  we  paddled  up  the  stream  till  we 
were  almost  at  the  end  of  the  boating.  Then  I  heard  a  deer  walk- 
ing in  the  grass.  You  can  easy  tell  a  deer's  walk  from  that  of  a 
caribou  or  moose,  it's  so  much  quicker  and  nervous-like.  If  we 
couldn't  see  the  deer  over  the  bank,  it  couldn't  see  us  either,  so  I 
shoved  the  canoe  into  the  shadow  of  some  alder  bushes  on  the  side 
the  deer  was  coining  from,  hoping  it  would  take  the  water  below 
us  and  give  us  a  chance.  There  we  waited  for  about  five  minutes, 
listening  and  watching  for  all  we  were  worth.  Then  I  heard  a 
bird  twitter  in  the  bushes  over  our  heads,  and  the  next  minute  a 
deer  snorted  right  in  my  sportsman's  ear.  It  couldn't  have  been 
more  than  four  feet  off.  Did  you  ever  hear  a  deer  snort?  It 
sounds  like  a  person  coughing  very  loud.  How  it  did  snort  and 
stamp !  If  ever  a  deer  was  scared  out  of  a  year's  growth,  that  was 
the  deer.  And  as  to  my  man,  it  came  on  him  so  sudden  and  unex- 
pected, and  so  near,  and  in  the  middle  of  such  a  deathly  stillness, 
that  it  was  as  if  some  one  had  hit  him  with  a  club.  If  I  hadn't 
had  my  paddle  on  the  bank  to  hold  the  canoe  still,  we  would  have 
had  to  fin  it  sure. 

"  Well,  of  course  that  deer  had  no  more  business  in  that  neigh- 
borhood, and  cleared  out  as  if  it  had  to  call  on  some  one  in  the  next 
county  and  had  just  five  minutes  left  to  get  there.  So  we  went 
down  almost  to  the   foot   of  the  boating.     There  we  heard  two 


100  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

caribou.  We  laid  up  to  the  bank  and  waited  on  those  beasts  full 
three-quarters  of  an  hour,  keeping  all  that  time  just  as  still  as  a 
cast-iron  image.  Sometimes  they  would  come  within  twenty-five 
feet  or  so  of  us,  and  we'd  think  we  were  going  to  have  them  sure. 
Then  they  would  wander  off  again,  and  we'd  think  it  was  all  up. 
Then  they'd  come  back  again,  and  so  it  went  on.  Exasperating  is 
no  name  for  it.  The  woods  just  full  of  game,  and  we  only  wanted 
one  head  and  couldn't  get  it.  But  then  that's  the  way  it  generally 
works  in  actual  practice.  A  hunter  up  here  has  to  stand  a  lot  of 
that  sort  of  thing. 

"  Finally  they  went  off  without  discovering  us,  or  we  getting  a 
chance  at  them.  Then  we  went  up-stream  again,  almost  as  far  as 
before.  There  I  heard  a  moose — a  big  one.  I  could  hear  his  slow, 
solemn  tread,  and  the  swish  of  the  long  grass  on  his  legs  as  he 
walked  along.  There  was  a  nice  low  place  in  the  bank  a  little 
ahead  of  us,  a  splendid  place  for  a  moose  to  cross  the  stream,  and 
just  the  spot  for  it  to  kick  its  last  in.  I  put  the  canoe  up  against 
the  bank  and  under  some  alder  bushes,  so  that  we  would  be  hidden 
until  the  moose  was  in  the  water,  and  waited.  My  only  thought 
was,  '  Now,  if  my  man  is  only  good  for  anything,  won't  we  give 
that  moose  a  surprise  party!'  But  it  kept  on  by  the  crossing.  You 
could  count  every  footstep  till  it  was  right  abreast  of  us  on  the 
other  side  of  the  bushes,  not  fifteen  feet  off.  There  it  stopped. 
We  waited,  listening  till  our  ears  almost  cracked,  for  full  half  an 
hour  and  never  heard  another  sound.  I  knew  then  that  the  moose 
had  gone,  and  whispered  as  much  to  my  man.  I  whispered  because 
I  knew  the  moose  was  not  frightened,  only  suspicious.  It's  their 
way  if  they  suspect  danger,  and  think  they  haven't  been  seen,  to 
try  to  sneak  off ;  and  mighty  well  they  do  it  too.  A  moose  has  a 
big  head,  but  it  has  brains  to  match.  If  we  did  nothing  more  to 
scare  it,  there  was  a  chance  that  it  might  try  to  cross  farther  down ; 
and  in  hunting  you've  got  to  take  all  the  chances  there  are  lying 
around  loose.  You  may  do  your  level  best  forty  times  running, 
and  nothing  come  of  it ;  but  if  you  let  up  on  any  one  point,  expe- 
rience has  taught  me  that  that's  just  the  time  when  that  point  will 
beat  you  sure.     The  first  thing  to  be  learned  in  hunting  is  patience, 


A   HUNTING   ADVENTURE. 


101 


and  the  next  is  perseverance.  A  poor  shot  who  tries  his  best,  and 
keeps  trying,  will  get  a  good  deal  more  game  than  a  good  one  who 
is  careless  or  gets  discouraged. 

"  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  I  whispered  to  my  man  the  moose  had 
gone.     He  wouldn't  believe  it,  but  insisted  on  landing  up  at  the 


FOLLOWING   AN   ELK   TRAIL. 


low  place  so  he  could  see  behind  the  bushes.  I  told  him  it  would 
spoil  our  chances  below  and  do  no  good,  but  he  insisted.  Of  course 
the  man  who  pays  the  bills  has  a  right  to  be  boss,  so  we  landed. 
There  was  nothing  there.  You  wouldn't  have  thought  a  mouse, 
much  less  an  animal  as  heavy  as  an  ox,  could  have  gone  off  through 


102  CITY   BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 

that  high  half-dry  grass  without  our  hearing  it,  especially  on  such 
a  dead-still  night  as  that  was.  At  first  my  man  was  completely 
dumfounded.  Then  he  insisted  that  we  had  fooled  ourselves  and 
that  there  never  had  been  any  moose  there  at  all.  But  the  next 
morning  I  took  him  up  to  the  place  and  showed  him  the  trail  as 
plain  as  could  be.  It  was  a  big  one.  He  didn't  say  very  much  to 
me,  but  kept  repeating  to  himself,  '  I  wouldn't  have  believed  it !  I 
wouldn't  have  believed  it !'  " 

"  Isn't  a  bull-moose  a  very  dangerous  animal  to  hunt  ?"  asked 
Dick. 

"  No,  not  as  a  general  thing,"  replied  the  trapper.  "  At  this 
season  of  the  year,  which,  you  know,  is  the  pairing  season,  they  are 
sometimes  inclined  to  be  vicious.  But  now,  as  at  any  other  time, 
they'll  generally  run  if  they  can,  even  when  wounded.  I  know 
that  doesn't  exactly  agree  with  the  books  that  I've  seen.  From 
them  you'd  think  a  wounded  bull-moose  was  next  door  to  a  raging 
lion,  but  that  isn't  my  experience.  If  they  think  they  are  cornered 
they'll  fight  every  time  ;  and  so  will  any  wild  animal,  if  it  isn't 
bigger  than  your  thumb.  They  will  always  turn  on  a  man  who 
is  running  them  on  snow-shoes,  but  only  if  he  crowds  them  too 
close,  and  not  if  he  keeps  thirty  or  forty  yards  off.  I've  killed  a 
good  many  moose  in  my  day,  and  have  seen  a  good  many  killed, 
and  I  never  saw  but  one  case  where  a  moose  attacked  when  it 
seemed  to  have  a  good  chance  to  run  away,  though  I  have  heard 
of  others." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,"  said  Harry.  "  It  would  be  bad  enough  to 
be  gored  by  a  bull,  but  to  be  gored  by  a  bull-moose  with  so  many 
points  on  its  horns,  why,  it  would  punch  a  person  full  of  holes  all 
over." 

"  There  isn't  the  least  danger  from  its  horns,"  remarked  the 
trapper.  "  They  don't  attack  a  man  that  way.  It's  their  fore-feet 
that  are  to  be  dreaded,  for  they  can  strike  a  blow  with  them  like  a 
sledge-hammer  and  as  quick  as  a  prize-fighter.  They  are  so  long- 
legged,  too,  that  they  have  a  big  reach,  and  their  hoofs  cut  like  a 
knife.  Then  if  they  once  get  a  man  down,  you'd  think  they  had 
been  groaning  for  that  chance  for  the  last  five  years.     They  will 


ATTACKED   BY  A   MOOSE. 


103 


AN   ANXIOUS   MOMENT. 


pound  him  till  they  are  tired,  stand  off  a  while  to  get  breath,  and 
then  at  him  again,  and  so  on.  When  his  friends  come  to  carry 
him  home  they  will  find  a  shovel  mighty  convenient  to  have 
around." 

"  Tell  us  about  when  the  moose  did  attack,"  said  Dick. 

"  I  was  off  with  a  gentleman  where  we  are  going  to-morrow,  it 


104  CITY   BOYS   IN    THE   WOODS. 

must  have  been  five  years  ago.  He  was  a  rather  small  thin  man. 
one  of  the  queerest  mixtures  I  ever  saw.  One  day  there  would  be 
no  bounds  to  his  enterprise ;  the  next  you'd  suppose  that  his  bod- 
ily comfort  was  the  only  thing  he  ever  thought  of,  and  that  he 
wouldn't  wet  the  sole  of  his  shoe  for  the  whole  township.  Still  he 
was  a  mighty  pleasant  man  to  be  with,  and  an  uncommon  good 
shot  with  a  rifle ;  and  it  was  well  for  him  he  was,  too.  He  had  a 
44-calibre  "Winchester  repeating  rifle,  the  same  one  we  carried  yes- 
terday. He  gave  it  to  me  afterwards.  Well,  we  were  over  there  in 
Canada  prowling  about  the  stream  for  a  moonlight  shot,  for  the 
moon  was  full  then.  As  we  rounded  a  bend,  keeping  in  the  shade 
of  the  bank,  there  stood  a  bull -moose  on  the  other  side  of  the 
stream  just  getting  ready  to  cross.  It's  a  good  plan  with  game 
that  may  be  dangerous  to  wait  until  it's  abreast  of  or  by  you  be- 
fore you  fire.  You  not  only  get  a  better  shot,  but  the  animal  isn't 
so  likely  to  turn  on  you.  But  this  my  man  either  didn't  know  or 
didn't  care  for.  He  drew  on  that  moose  quicker  than  scat,  banged 
away,  and  just  grazed  the  top  of  its  neck.  There's  nothing  like  a 
neck  shot  if  it's  placed  right.  It  will  knock  the  biggest  animal  off 
its  legs  as  though  it  were  struck  by  lightning.  There  won't  be  the 
least  kick  left  in  it.  But  shooting  by  moonlight  is  at  best  an  un- 
certain business,  and  he  ought  not  to  have  tried  a  shot  requiring 
such  accuracy.  I  shall  never  forget  the  look  of  that  moose  as  it 
came  for  us.  It  seemed  to  be  about  as  big  as  a  sleeping-car,  and 
there  was  a  green  glare  in  its  eyes  that  was  enough  to  paralyze 
you.  It  was  plain  that  it  meant  business  and  that  there  was  no 
time  for  any  foolishness.  I  sung  out  to  my  man  to  get  out  of  the 
boat,  thinking  we'd  leave  the  moose  to  hammer  away  at  the  boat, 
which  would  be  the  biggest  object,  and  probably  take  up  its  atten- 
tion while  we  took  to  the  bank.  Then,  while  it  was  interested  in 
the  boat  Ave  could  bombard  it  at  close  quarters ;  and  as  my  man 
knew  where  to  shoot  and  could  shoot,  I  made  no  doubt  he'd  floor  it 
all  right.  Besides,  I  thought  it  likely  the  moose  would  stave  its 
fore-legs  through  the  boat  the  first  or  second  lick,  and  if  it  did  it 
wouldn't  find  it  so  easy  to  get  clear  again. 

"  Well,  I  got  out  in  short  order.     The  water  wasn't  over  three 


ATTACKED   BY  A  MOOSE.  105 

or  three  and  a  half  feet  deep.  I  supposed  he  would  follow.  But 
perhaps  he  didn't  know  that  he  could  wade,  or  thought  the  water 
looked  too  wet.  At  any  rate,  there  he  sat,  to  my  horror,  cool  as 
you  please,  pumping  the  lead  into  that  moose,  which  was  just  jump- 
ing for  him  and  making  the  water  fly.     I  thought  his  time  had 


%y® 


A    LONG    SIIOT. 


come  sure,  for  I  had  nothing  but  the  paddle  and  couldn't  help  him 
a  bit.  It  was  all  over  in  eight  or  ten  seconds,  but  I  don't  want  to 
see  any  more  such  seconds.  There  wasn't  time  for  many  shots,  for 
the  moose  wasn't  more  than  thirty  yards  away  at  the  start.  But 
the  second  shot  he  fired  caught  the  moose  just  where  the  neck  joins 
the  body,  and  brought  it  down  within  twenty  feet  of  him.     He 


106 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


seemed  cool  enough  after  the  danger  was  over — perhaps  he  didn't 
know  what  a  narrow  squeak  he  had  had ;  but  as  for  me,  I  was  in 
such  a  tremble  that  I  wanted  to  catch  hold  of  a  tree  for  fear  I'd 
shake  my  teeth  loose. 

"By -the -way,  do  you  know  what  time  it  is?  because  if  you 
don't  I'll  tell  you.  It's  time  people  who  are  bound  for  foreign 
parts  went  to  bed." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Through  the  Woods  into  Canada.— Hard  Travelling.— The  Boundary  Line  between 
the  United  States  and  Canada.— Arrival  at  the  Bog. — A  Shot  at  a  Deer. 

THE  next  morning  the  trapper  and  the  boys  rowed  to  the  head 
of  the  lake.  There  they  pulled  the  boat  ashore  and  made  it 
fast,  shouldered  their  packs,  and  entered  the  bush.  For  the  first 
half-hour  the  way  lay  through  an  alder  swamp,  where  they  had  to 
struggle  for  every  foot  of  advance.     Every  few  moments  one  or  the 


108  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

other  of  the  boys  would  step  on  a  slippery  root,  or  catch  his  foot 
under  some  bush  growing  almost  parallel  with  the  ground.  Then  a 
frantic  struggle  to  regain  the  lost  balance  would  follow,  a  struggle 
by  no  means  lightened  by  the  unaccustomed  pack,  a  struggle  some- 
times successful,  if  to  fall  against  and  be  upheld  by  a  clump  of 
alders  may  be  called  successful.  Occasionally  they  went  down  alto- 
gether, when  their  packs  would  show  a  far  from  agreeable  tendency 
to  strike  them  on  the  back  of  the  head  and  hammer  their  noses  into 
the  mud.  At  last,  to  their  delight,  the  ground  began  to  rise,  and  a 
few  moments  later  they  found  themselves  out  of  the  swamp  and  in 
the  forest. 

"Whew!"  exclaimed  Harry,  "that  was  tough.  Do  let's  rest  for 
a  few  minutes,  Mr.  Dant." 

"  I  don't  think  any  one  would  mistake  it  for  a  turnpike,"  replied 
the  trapper.  "  Off  with  your  packs,  and  we  will  take  a  five-minute 
rest.  You  mustn't  be  discouraged  yet,  for  we  have  only  begun  to 
hunt  moose,  and  this  is  just  as  much  a  part  of  it  as  firing  the  rifle. 
Besides,  a  pack  always  feels  its  heaviest  about  twenty  minutes  after 
the  start.  You'll  get  used  to  it  in  a  little  while  and  not  mind  it 
so  much.  Packing  is  pretty  hard  work,  particularly  when  you  have 
to  take  the  travelling  as  it  comes,  and  just  as  nature  furnishes  it. 
Put  on  your  coats,  though.  I  know  you  re  boiling  hot  now,  but  your 
shirts,  where  your  packs  rested,  are  wet  through  with  perspiration, 
and  you'll  be  chilled  in  no  time  without  them." 

"How  many  times  did  you  fall  down,  Dick?"  asked  Harry. 

"  Six,"  replied  Dick ;  "  and  every  time  I  went  down,  my  pack 
flew  up  and  hit  me  on  the  back  of  my  head.  Besides  the  falls,  I 
had  a  lot  of  stumbles  which  banged  me  into  the  alders.  I  feel  as 
though  I  had  been  ground  in  a  mill." 

"  I  got  off  with  only  four  downright  falls,"  said  Harry.  "  I  slip- 
ped into  one  mud-hole,  though.  It  may  have  had  a  bottom,  but  I 
didn't  find  it.  It  feels  as  if  I  had  half  the  swamp  in  my  left  shoe. 
Then  if  I  picked  up  my  hat  once,  I  think  I  must  have  picked  it  up 
twenty  times.  I  hope  we  are  not  going  to  have  much  more  like 
that ;  are  we,  Mr.  Dant  ?" 

"  Xo,  we  won't  have  any  more  quite  as  bad  as  that ;  but  I  could 


i  i\n,  •     '  ASi, 


"HAKD   TRAVELLING."  Ill 

take  you  through  travelling  down  near  the  settlement  that  would 
make  you  just  sigh  for  that  alder  swamp.  If  a  man  is  studying 
travelling,  and  wants  to  know  what  bad  travelling  really  is,  he  wants 
to  strike  into  an  old  lumber-works.  When  the  forest  is  cut  off  in 
this  country  so  as  to  let  the  sun  in  on  to  the  ground,  it  always 
grows  up  to  raspberry  bushes  and  little  cherry-trees  about  as  thick 
as  my  thumb,  both  as  close  together  as  the  hair  on  your  head. 
Where  they  come  from  is  more  than  I  can  tell,  for  you  won't  find 
them  anywhere  else  or  under  any  other  circumstances.  But  clear 
the  ground  and  let  the  sun  in  on  it,  and  there  they'll  be  every 
time.  Hidden  by  this  thick  stuff  are  all  the  old  logs,  tree-tops,  and 
branches  the  lumbermen  have  left ;  and  forcing  your  way  along  is 
just  one  climb,  tumble,  scratch,  and  claw,  tumble  down,  pick  your- 
self up,  fall  down  again,  and  so  on.  A  man  who  tries  it  once  isn't 
likely  to  forget  it  in  a  hurry.  But  we'll  never  get  to  Canada  at  this 
rate.     Let's  be  up  and  doing." 

So  they  resumed  their  way,  marching  steadily,  as  nearly  as  the 
trapper  could  judge  the  time,  for  forty  minutes,  and  then  resting  for 
ten.  The  travelling  varied  considerably.  Sometimes  it  was  quite 
good  and  open,  at  other  times  quite  rough  and  bushy.  Every  thirty 
or  forty  yards  a  fallen  tree  barred  their  way,  sometimes  waist-high, 
sometimes  up  to  their  chins.  These  had  to  be  climbed  over  or 
crawled  under,  and  hard  work  the  boys  found  it  after  a  while.  The 
only  incident  that  broke  the  monotony  of  the  march  was  in  con- 
nection with  one  of  these  fallen  trees.  A  smothered  but  energetic 
eloquence  caused  the  trapper  and  Dick  to  look  behind  them.  There 
lay  Harry  sprawled  out  on  his  face  on  the  ground,  struggling  vio- 
lently. Tired  of  climbing  over,  he  had  tried  to  crawl  under  the 
fallen  trunk  of  a  spruce-tree.  He  had  failed  to  take  the  thickness 
of  his  pack  into  consideration,  and  there  he  was  jammed  fast.  The 
trapper  soon  released  him,  and  said  : 

"  After  a  person  has  climbed  over  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  of 
these  breast-logs  in  the  course  of  a  forenoon,  he  begins  to  watch 
for  chances  to  get  under  them  with  considerable  interest.  But  don't 
you  be  fooled.  You,  Harry,  know  how  it  is  now.  To  you,  Dick,  I 
would  say  never  try  to  go  under  a  log  with  a  pack  on,  unless  you 


112  CITY   BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 

are  perfectly  sure  you  can  do  it,  and  do  it  without  stooping  much. 
You  are  almost  certain  not  to  make  allowance  enough  for  the  pack, 
and  if  }^ou  get  hung  up,  it  will  take  more  work  out  of  you  to  get 
clear  than  climbing  twenty  logs.,, 

About  noon  the  trapper  called  a  halt  by  the  side  of  a  small 
brook. 

"We'd  better  lunch  here  and  rest  for  an  hour.  What  do  you 
say  ?" 

The  boys  were  only  too  willing.  Lunch  over,  the  trapper  lit  his 
pipe,  and  looking  keenly  at  his  companions,  said, 

"  Well,  boys,  how  goes  it  ?     Pretty  tired,  eh  ?" 


"  WED    BETTER    I.UNCII    HERE   AND    REST    FOR   AN    HOUR. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  feel  rested  some,  now,"  replied  Dick,  "  but 
when  we  stopped  I  was  quite  ready.  How  my  shoulders  did  ache 
under  the  pack-straps  !  And  then  I  had  a  pain  in  the  middle  of  my 
breastbone  that  wasn't  pleasant." 

"  So  did  I,"  said  Harry.     k>  How  much  farther  is  it,  Mr.  Dant  2" 

"  We'll  have  better  travelling  after  this,  and  more  downhill.  I 
think  we'll  reach  the  place  where  I  keep  my  boat  in  about  two 
hours  and  a  half  after  we  leave  here,  if  we  keep  at  it  as  we  have 
done ;  but  we've  time  enough,  and  can  take  it  easier.  Then  you  can 
put  some  of  your  stuff  into  my  pack  if  you  like,  and  go  lighter." 

To  this  suggestion  the  boys  wouldn't  listen,  for  they  had  slyly 
tried  the  weight  of  the  trapper's  pack  by  lifting  it,  and  had  won- 


A    LUMBER   WORKS. 


FROM   THE   UNITED    STATES   INTO   CANADA.  115 

dered  how  a  man  could  travel  over  so  rough  a  country  under  such 
a  weight.     It  seemed  to  them  as  heavy  as  a  well-filled  trunk. 

"  How  far  do  you  think  we  have  come  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"  Well,  we've  been  travelling  about  five  hours,  and  I  should  say 
we  had  made  seven  to  seven  and  a  half  miles." 

"  Only  seven  miles  and  a  half  ?"  said  Harry. 

"  Not  over  that,  I  should  say.  Why,  how  much  did  you  think 
we  had  done  ?" 

"  I  thought  we  had  made  twelve  or  fourteen  miles  sure,"  replied 
Harry.  "  I've  walked  four  measured  miles  in  an  hour  at  home,  and 
did  not  work  half  so  hard.  Surely,  Mr.  Dant,  we  must  have  made 
three  miles  an  hour  to-day,  or  at  any  rate  two  and  a  half !" 

"  That's  the  way  all  city  people  talk  who  come  up  here,  but 
they  are  mistaken  all  the  same.  I  can't  make  three  miles  an  hour 
over  such  going  as  we  have  had  to-day  without  a  load,  and  I  can 
do  it  a  third  quicker  than  you  can.  When  you  happen  on  clear, 
level  walking  you  do  three  miles  an  hour  without  doubt,  but  how 
much  of  that  sort  of  thing  do  you  find?  How  many  miles  an  hour 
do  you  make  when  you  are  climbing  over  all  the  breast -logs,  or 
when  you  are  balancing  over  the  roots  and  things  of  that  kind,  or 
when  your  hat  is  knocked  off  by  a  bush,  or  when  you  stumble  and 
fall?  How  many  miles  an  hour  do  you  suppose  we  made  in  that 
alder  swamp  ?  We  were  half  an  hour  good  in  crossing  it,  and  it  isn't 
over  five  hundred  yards  wide,  if  it's  that.  No,  no,  don't  deceive 
yourselves.  A  mile  and  a  half  an  hour  is  good  average  travelling 
through  the  woods,  take  them  as  they  come.  But  the  camp  where 
we  are  to  sleep  to-night  will  never  come  to  us.  I  think,  if  you  are 
rested,  we  had  better  be  moving." 

About  an  hour  and  a  half  later  the  trapper  called  a  halt,  and 
said,  "  Welcome  to  Canada,  boys." 

"  Are  we  in  Canada  ?"  asked  Harry,  staring  about  him  as  if  he 
had  expected  to  see  all  the  trees  bright  pink  instead  of  their  usual 
sombre  green. 

"  You're  in  Canada,  sure  enough.  Why,  don't  it  look  as  you  ex- 
pected ?" 

"  Come  to  think  of  it,  I  don't  know  why  I  should  have  expected 


116 


CITY  BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 


it  to  look  different,  but  I  did ;  perhaps  because  it's  always  colored 
different  on  the  maps,"  replied  Harry.  "  But  how  do  you  know  so 
positively  we  are  in  Canada?  The  woods  have  looked  just  the  same 
for  the  last  two  hours?" 

"  You're  not  thirty  feet  from  the  boundary  line  now.     Come 
here,  and  I'll  show  it  to  }Tou.     Do  you  see  that  stump,  and  that,  and 


A   LUMBERMAN  S    BIVOUAC. 


that  ?  They  are  not  the  stumps  of  trees  blown  down  by  the  wind. 
They  are  old  and  moss-covered ;  but  to  me,  at  any  rate,  it's  just  as 
certain  they  were  cut  with  an  axe  as  that  you  stand  here.  Now 
look  at  the  trees  there  and  on  both  sides  of  you.  Don't  you  see 
that  there  is  a  strip  here  in  which  there  are  no  big  trees,  as  there  are 
on  both  sides  of  it,  and  that  these  small  trees  are  very  much  closer 
together  ?     Now,  here  is  an  easy  tree  to  climb,  and  from  its  top  you 


ON   THE   BOUNDARY   LINE.  117 

can  see  out  some  over  the  country.  I  should  like  one  of  ycu  to  go 
up  it  and  tell  me  what  you  see." 

Harry  was  soon  in  the  top  of  the  tree  indicated  by  the  trapper. 
He  took  one  look,  and  then  shouted  down,  "  Oh,  Dick,  come  up  here, 
come  up  here !  Such  lots  of  mountains,  and  all  covered  with  woods 
to  their  very  tops !     Oh,  it's  lovely  !" 

"  Don't  you  see  anything  else  ?"  shouted  back  the  trapper. 

"  Yes,  I  see  a  road  running  over  the  mountains.  It  looks  among 
the  trees  like  a  city  street  between  the  houses.1' 

"  Where  is  the  end  nearest  you  V  again  called  the  trapper. 

"  Why,  good  gracious !  It  runs  right  to  the  foot  of  this  tree, 
and  then  up  and  over  the  top  of  this  hill." 

"  That's  all.  You  can  come  down  now  whenever  you're 
ready." 

Dick  had  in  the  mean  time  also  climbed  the  tree,  and  had  seen 
what  Harry  had  described. 

When  they  had  descended,  the  trapper  said,  "  Leave  your  packs 
here  and  I'll  show  you  something  more." 

He  led  them  about  a  hundred  yards  away,  and  there  stood  a 
cast-iron  obelisk  some  four  feet  above  the  ground,  painted  white, 
bearing  upon  one  of  its  four  sides  in  raised  capital  letters  the  words, 
"  National  Boundary  Line,"  and  on  another  the  words,  "  Treaty  of 
Washington."  The  names  of  the  American  and  British  Commis- 
sioners occupied  the  remaining  two  sides. 

Had  a  friend  proposed  to  show  them  something  in  the  city,  and 
had  that  something  turned  out  to  be  a  full-grown  moose  walking 
out  of  a  basement  area,  the  boys  would  have  hardly  been  less  pre- 
pared for  the  result.  In  the  heart  of  a  wilderness,  where  to  all  ap- 
pearance the  foot  of  man  had  never  trod  before,  this  plain,  prosaic, 
white  iron  post  rose  before  them  like  an  apparition. 

Their  surprise  somewhat  abated,  they  fell  to  examining  it  with 
as  much  care  and  attention  as  though  it  were  a  new  form  of  bi- 
cycle. There  was  nothing  particular  to  be  seen  about  it,  however ; 
for,  aside  from  its  locality  and  purpose,  it  was  as  humdrum  a  piece 
of  cast-iron  as  could  be  found  anywhere.  Beyond  that  each  face 
was  about  eight  inches  wide  at  the  bottom,  and  six  at  the  top,  that 
8* 


118  CITY   BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 

the  top  ended  in  a  flat  four-sided  pyramid,  and  that  it  was  rooted 
to  some  considerable  depth  in  the  ground,  they  found  little  to  at- 
tract their  attention.  Their  curiosity  satisfied  in  these  respects, 
Harry  bestrode  the  boundary  line  with  one  foot  in  the  United 
States  and  the  other  in  Canada  as  indicated  by  the  post,  and  said : 

"  Well,  Dick,  here's  something  to  talk  about  after  we  get  home, 
anyway.  I  am  not  sure  but  this  side-show  alone  is  worth  the  price 
of  admission,  by  which  I  mean  the  trouble  of  getting  here/' 

"  It  certainly  is  to  me,"  replied  Dick.  "  I  heard  a  paper  read 
before  our  historical  society  on  this  boundary  a  little  while  ago. 
I  didn't  think  then  that  I  should  ever  see  any  one  stand  astride 
of  it." 

"  I  guess  we'd  better  be  moving  again  now,  boys,"  said  the  trap- 
per. "  We  will  have  done  a  day's  work  when  we  reach  camp,  and 
so  won't  go  out  to-night.  After  supper  I'll  tell  you  all  I  know 
about  the  boundary,  and  Dick  shall  tell  us  what  he  knows  about 
it,  I  have  been  over  all  this  part  of  it  time  and  again,  and  know 
what  the  settlers  say  was  done  when  it  was  laid  out ;  but  I  never 
heard  the  real  history  of  how  the  place  where  it  should  run  was 
decided  on." 

The  travelling  was  now  generally  downhill,  and  comparatively 
easy.  After  about  an  hour  the  woods  began  to  grow  thinner 
before  them,  and  soon  they  emerged  upon  what  the  trapper  called 
a  "  bog."  They  walked  upon  a  carpet  of  soft  whitish  moss,  like  a 
sponge  in  feeling,  and  apparently  saturated  with  water.  At  inter- 
vals small  islands  of  swamp  spruce-trees  dotted  the  open  surface  of 
the  bog.  There  the  trees  grew  very  close  together  in  clumps  per- 
haps fifteen  or  twenty  feet  in  diameter,  the  stems  of  the  trees  within 
two  or  three  feet  of  one  another.  No  trunk  exceeds  six  or  seven 
inches  in  thickness  or  thirty  feet  in  height. 

"  Don't  step  where  there  is  no  moss,  or  where  there  is  standing 
water  no  matter  how  shallow  it  is,"  directed  the  trapper.  "  It's 
nothing  but  soft  mud  there,  no  one  knows  how  deep.  But  if  you 
keep  on  the  moss,  though  the  water  shows  at  every  step,  you  will 
be  all  right." 

Skirting  the  edge  of  the  woods  upon  the  bog,  they  at  last  came 


THE   BOG   AT   LAST. 


119 


- 


to  a  sluggish  and  apparently 
deep  strip  of  water  eight  or 
ten  feet  wide.  Its  banks,  a 
foot  above  the  water-level, 
were  as  perpendicular  as 
though  cut  with  a  spade, 
while  its  straightness  and 
even  width  gave  it  the  ap- 
pearance of  an  artificial  canal. 

"We've  about  reached  the  end  of  our  foot  journey,"  said  the 
trapper,  as  the  water  came  in  sight.     The  next  moment  they  stood 


'N$ 


THE   TRAIL   OF   THE    LUMBERMAN. 


120  CITY   BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 

beside  it,  and  threw  off  their  packs  for  the  last  time  with  no  little  - 
satisfaction. 

"  Whew !"  exclaimed  Harry.  "  I  had  no  idea  that  pack  was  so 
heavy.  Why,  I  feel  as  light  as  a  feather  now  without  it.  But 
where's  the  boat,  Mr.  Dant '." 

"Well,  to  tell  the  truth,"  replied  the  trapper,  looking  very  grave. 
"  that's  just  what  I'm  trying  to  find  out,  It  ought  to  be  lying  here 
in  the  water,  tied  to  this  stake  by  a  rope.  There's  one  end  of  the  rope 
still  tied  to  the  stake.  Yes,  here  are  the  paddles  all  right.  Let  me 
look  at  that  rope  again.  It's  been  cut,  as  sure  as  you  live.  I  thought 
it  couldn't  have  broken.  This  beats  the  deck !  One  thing  we  may 
be  sure  of,  no  man  has  had  any  hand  in  it,  for  a  man  would  have 
untied  the  rope  instead  of  cutting  it,  and  he  would  surely  have  taken 
the  paddles,  because  he  couldn't  have  used  the  boat  without.  But 
there's  one  comfort,  anyway  :  Unless  the  boat  has  flown  away,  we'll 
find  it  somewhere  this  side  of  the  big  dam.  You  wait  here  while 
I  go  and  take  a  look  for  it."  So  saying,  the  trapper  took  one  of 
the  paddles  and  disappeared  up  the  stream.  Soon  after,  they  saw 
him  crossing  on  a  pile  of  brushwood  forty  or  fifty  yards  above. 

The  boys  waited  an  anxious  half-hour.  Then  the  trapper  ap- 
peared, seated  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  driving  it  towards  them  with 
steady  strokes  of  his  paddle. 

"  Here  it  is,  all  right,  as  sound  as  a  dollar  and  tight  as  a  bottle. 
I  found  it  down  against  the  dam.  Let's  load  the  packs,  get  aboard 
and  be  off  to  camp." 

The  boys  were  astonished  to  see  a  boat  thirteen  feet  long,  sharp 
at  both  ends,  shaped  something  like  a  birch  canoe,  though  wider — in 
short,  as  pretty  a  boat  as  they  had  ever  seen. 

"  How  did  you  ever  get  such  a  beauty  of  a  boat  'way  in 
here?"  asked  Dick,  after  regarding  it  for  some  time  with  a  critical 
eye. 

"I  brought  it  on  a  hand-sled  over  from  the  lake  last  winter  when 
the  snow  was  deep,  and  quite  a  job  it  was  too  I  can  tell  you.  By 
the  last  of  February  the  snow  up  here  gets  six  or  seven  feet  deep 
on  the  level.  This  weights  down  the  bushes,  and  covers  them  and 
most  of  the  breast-logs  so  you  can  travel  right  over  their  tops  on 


<;OOr>    TRAVELLING. 


A   SHOT  AT  A   DEER.  123 

snow-shoes  without  breaking  your  gait.  Along  in  March  we  usually 
have  a  spell  of  weather  when  it's  pretty  warm  in  the  middle  of  the 
day,  while  it  freezes  at  night.  This  hardens  the  snow  so  that  a 
hand-sled  will  hardly  cut  into  its  surface  at  all,  unless  it's  loaded 
very  heavy.  That's  the  time,  and  in  fact  the  only  time,  for  such 
a  job,  and  that's  when  I  did  it.  But  the  boat  was  so  much  longer 
than  the  sled  and  hung  over  its  ends  so  far  that  it  didn't  balance 
very  well.  The  way  it  kicked  up  behind  and  before  was  surprising. 
I  had  no  idea  a  boat  could  be  so  skittish  on  dry  land.  It  gave 
me  two  days  and  a  half  of  the  most  solid  kind  of  work.  I  came 
just  about  the  same  way  we  took  to-day.  But  do  you  remem- 
ber what  I  said  about  taking  all  the  chances  there  were  when  hunt- 
ing ?  Now  is  the  time  to  remember  it,  anyway.  Harry,  you  had 
the  last  chance  at  the  caribou,  so  you  sit  in  the  middle  of  the  boat. 
You,  Dick,  sit  in  the  bow,  put  a  cartridge  into  the  barrel  of  the 
rifle,  bring  it  to  a  half-cock,  and  hold  it  across  your  lap  ready  to 
fire.  We  may  see  something  on  the  way  down.  But  remember, 
not  an  unnecessary  sound  is  to  be  made  or  word  spoken  till  we 
reach  camp." 

Impelled  by  the  skilful  paddle  of  the  trapper,  the  boat  soon 
emerged  into  a  stream  about  one  hundred  feet  wide,  and  turning  to 
the  left,  moved  slowly  on.  Mountains  covered  with  woods  could  be 
seen  on  every  hand.  On  the  left  bank  the  forest  approached  the 
water  more  or  less  closely,  being  separated  from  it  by  a  narrow 
strip  of  level  ground  covered  with  rank  marsh-grass.  On  the  right, 
the  bank  was  sparsely  fringed  with  dead  tamarack-trees  and  alder 
bushes,  though  through  occasional  openings  it  could  be  seen  that 
this  was  but  a  fringe,  and  that  the  stream  was  separated  from  the 
distant  hills  by  a  large  bog  like  that  they  had  seen  when  they  first 
left  the  woods. 

They  soon  reached  what  the  boys  supposed  to  be  the  dam.  Here 
they  landed,  without  a  word,  on  a  small  island,  while  the  trapper 
pulled  the  boat  over  it.    Then  re-embarking,  they  pursued  their  way. 

About  half  a  mile  had  been  passed  in  silence  when  the  trapper 
whispered,  "  Cock  your  rifle,  Dick,  and  get  ready.  There's  a  deer  in 
the  next  bend  on  the  ri^ht." 


124 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE    WOODS. 


The  boat  kept  on,  both  the  boys  on  the  alert,  though  they  could 
neither  see  nor  hear  anything.  In  a  few  minutes  they  passed  a  point 
which  had  limited  the  view  before  them.  A  branch  about  twenty- 
five  feet  wide  here  joined  the  main  stream.  On  the  bank  of  this 
branch,  some  thirty  yards  distant,  stood  a  deer.  The  moment  the 
bow  of  the  boat  passed  the  point  the  deer  raised  its  head,  started, 
looked  fixedly  at  the  boat  for  an  instant,  and  then  bounded  up  the 
bank.  As  it  turned,  Dick  fired,  but  the  deer  sprang  into  the  bushes 
and  disappeared.  "  Good  gracious,  I've  missed  it  !"  exclaimed  he,  in 
a  tone  of  the  keenest  disappointment. 

"  Hush,"  whispered  the  trapper.  "  Not  a  word  now.  We'll  talk 
it  over  when  we  reach  camp." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Rifle  shooting  at  Game.— Habits  of  Deer.— The  Bog  Camp.— Visit  from  a  Skunk.— 
How  the  North-eastern  Boundary  Line  was  Located. 

SOME  twenty  minutes  later  the  roar  of  running  water  was  heard, 
the  banks  grew  higher,  and  the  forest  reached  the  border  of 
the  stream.  Here  the  boat  was  headed  into  the  bank ;  the  trapper 
landed,  held  the  boat  till  the  boys  were  ashore,  ran  it  up  on  the 
bank,  removed  the  packs,  and  then  said : 

''Here  we  are  at  camp,  and  far  enough  from  the  hunting- 
ground  so  you  can  say  what  you  like  about  that  miss,  Dick." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Dant,  I  am  so  sorry !  I  hope  you  won't  be  discouraged. 
I've  always  done  pretty  well  at  a  mark  with  a  rifle,  and  I  thought 
sure  I  had  that  deer  covered.  I  never  fired  at  anything  larger  than 
a  duck  before.  I'll  try  to  do  better  next  time  if  you'll  only  kindly 
overlook  my  poor  shooting  now." 

"  Shooting  at  a  mark  and  shooting  at  game  are  quite  different 
things,"  replied  the  trapper.  "  In  the  one  case  you  shoot  at  a  spot 
with  a  good  background  to  show  it  off  and  make  it  distinct.  In  the 
other  you  shoot  at  a  surface  pretty  much  the  color  of  surrounding 
objects,  and  usually  in  a  bad  light.  Men  who  can  do  well  at  a  mark 
and  can't  do  anything  at  game  are  common  enough.  I  might  say 
that  it  was  always  so  at  first,  when  target  practice  was  the  only 
practice  with  a  rifle  that  had  been  had.     I  would,  of  course,  have 


126  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

liked  to  see  you  knock  it  in  its  tracks,  but  for  the  first  time  it 
wasn't  so  bad." 

"I  don't  see  what  could  be  much  worse  than  a  clear  miss,  and 
such  an  easy  shot  too,"  replied  Dick.  "  I  thought  I  could  put 
every  bullet  I  chose  to  fire  in  a  space  as  big  as  a  saucer  at  that 
distance." 

"You  seem  to  be  very  sure  you  missed,"  said  the  trapper,  with  a 
smile. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Dant,  do  you  really  think  I  hit  it  ?"  said  Dick,  a  gleam 
of  hope  chasing  the  gloom  of  despondency  from  his  face. 

"  No,  Dick,  I  don't  think  }tou  hit  it — I  know  you  did.  The  deer 
turned  as  you  fired.  You  didn't  make  any  allowance  for  that,  and 
hit  it  too  far  back  to  lay  it  out  where  it  stood.  But  it's  got  its 
medicine ;  that  you  may  be  sure  of.  How  do  I  know  it  ?  Because 
a  deer  handles  its  tail  just  as  a  dog  does,  and  if  you  watch  its  tail 
you  can  tell  what  it's  thinking  of,  just  as  you  can  with  a  dog.  A 
deer's  tail  is  of  pretty  fair  size  and  white  underneath.  When  you 
start  one  and  miss  it,  it  goes  off  flourishing  its  tail  in  the  air,  as 
much  as  to  say, '  You've  got  to  get  up  earlier  in  the  morning  if  you 
want  to  get  the  best  of  me,  old  fellow.'  But  when  a  deer  goes  off 
as  that  one  did,  with  its  tail  between  its  legs  like  a  kicked  cur.  you 
may  know  that  it  is  hurt,  and  badly  too." 

"  Let's  go  right  back  and  get  it.  I'm  not  tired  now  at  all," 
exclaimed  Harry. 

"  That  isn't  the  way  to  get  it.  That's  the  way  to  lose  it," 
replied  the  trapper.  "  A  deer  isn't  an  easy  animal  to  kill.  I've 
known  one  to  run  over  a  hundred  yards  with  a  bullet  through  it 
that  cut  its  heart.  That  deer  is  hit  through  the  stomach  or  bowels. 
Either  will  be  a  sure  mortal  wound ;  but  it  can  run  now  for  five 
miles  on  end.  If  we  let  it  alone  it  will  only  go  a  little  way  and  then 
lie  down,  and  there  we  will  find  it  in  the  morning.  But  if  we  start 
it  again  now  it  will  go  till  it  drops,  and  that  will  be  so  far  off  that 
the  chance  of  my  trailing  it  all  that  distance,  among  so  many  other 
tracks  as  I  should  find,  would  be  mighty  slim.  I  want  you  to 
remember  this,  especially  at  night :  Get  in  as  many  shots  at  the 
start  as  you  have  a  good  chance  for.     Then  if  the  animal  gets  to 


HOW   TO    HUNT   DEER. 


129 


cover,  don't  speak  a  word  or  make  a  sound,  but  leave  as  quietly  as 
you  can.  If  it's  a  miss,  you  won't  get  another  shot — in  a  thick 
country  like  this,  anyway.  If  it's  a  hit,  leave  the  animal  in  doubt 
if  you  can  as  to  what  hurt  it.  Then  in  the  morning  you  will  either 
find  the  animal  dead,  or  so  stiff  and  sore  that  you  can  still  hunt  it 
with  the  chances  of  success  all  in  your  favor.  There,  put  that  deer 
out  of  your  heads  till  to-morrow  morning.  Nothing  can  be  done 
about  it  till  then." 

During  this  conversation  they  had  reached  camp  and  begun  their 
preparations  for  supper  and  the  night.  Three  sides  of  the  house 
were  of  round  logs,  like  that  at  the  lake.  The  fourth  was  of  rough 
stones  built  against  a  steep  bank  which  had  been  cut  down  perpen- 


[>'    WAIT   ON   THE   BOG. 


dicularly  for  the  purpose.  The  interior  arrangement  was  the  same 
except  as  to  the  fireplace,  which  was  built  of  rough  slabs  of  stone 
in  the  form  of  an  irregular  pointed  arch,  with  the  hearth  some  two 
feet  above  the  floor  of  the  cabin.  It  looked  much  like  a  natural 
cave,  and  the  boys  thought  it  very  picturesque  and  in  keeping  with 
its  surroundings. 

"I  see  you  are  looking  at  my  fireplace,"  said  the  trapper. 
"  Pretty  good  one,  isn't  it?  It  cost  me  work  enough,  though.  Ev- 
ery one  of  those  stones  was  fished  out  of  the  bottom  of  the  stream 
and  carried  up  here  in  my  arms.  It  didn't  take  me  long  either  to 
find  out  that  there  wasn't  any  steam  heater  at  the  bottom  of  that 
water.     Whew,  wasn't  it  cold !  and  didn't  it  make  my  hands  ache ! 


130  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

"  The  great  trouble  about  our  fireplaces  up  here  is  to  prevent 
them  smoking.  "We  can't  build  them  quite  right,  as  we  have  to 
take  the  stones  just  as  we  find  them,  and  have  no  mortar.  In  some 
of  my  camps  the  door  has  to  be  left  open  to  make  a  strong 
draught,  or  the  fire  will  smoke  you  out.  A  couple  of  years  ago  I 
thought  I  could  get  round  that  by  putting  in  two  hollow  logs,  one 
end  opening  out-doors  and  the  other  opening  at  the  hearth,  so  that 
the}r  would  pour  two  five-inch  streams  of  cold  air  into  the  fire. 
They  did  the  business,  and  I  thought  I  had  just  hit  the  bull's-eye 
sure.  I  hadn't  any  raised  bunk  in  here  then,  the  bed  being  a  heap 
of  fir-boughs  on  the  ground.  There  was  a  young  country  chap 
with  me  trying  to  learn  something  about  trapping.  About  three  or 
four  nights  after  we  fixed  the  hollow  logs,  when  I  was  so  proud  of 
the  way  they  worked  I  could  hardly  sleep,  I  happened  to  open  my 
eyes.  "What  should  I  see  by  the  light  of  the  fire  but  a  skunk  walk- 
ing about  the  premises,  and  taking  stock  of  everything  just  as  if  it 
was  trying  to  make  up  its  mind  whether  it  wanted  to  buy  the  place 
or  not.  I  would  have  been  glad  just  then  to  have  made  it  a  pres- 
ent of  the  camp  if  it  would  only  let  me  move  out  without  making 
any  fuss  about  it. 

"  "Well,  if  you  could  only  have  seen  that  skunk — through  a  long 
range  telescope,  that  is — you  would  have  been  pleased.  If  a  skunk 
only  acted  as  well  as  it  looks,  it  would  make  a  first-rate  ladies'  pet, 
but  it  don't.  First  that  skunk  would  poke  its  nose  into  a  corner  and 
snuff  round  a  while.  Then  it  would  come  out,  twist  its  head  on 
one  side,  and  run  its  eye  over  the  wall,  as  if  it  was  wondering 
whether  the  man  who  built  it  called  himself  a  mason.  Then  it 
would  inspect  the  joiner-work  about  the  door  and  the  table,  cock- 
ing its  head  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other,  looking  as 
knowing  as  a  horse-jockey.  I  knew  our  turn  to  be  interviewed 
would  come  soon,  and  perhaps  I  wasn't  scared !  I  was  afraid  the 
skunk  would  run  over  the  lad  and  wake  him,  and  that  then  he 
would  jump,  or  do  something  of  that  kind.  If  that  happened  I 
knew  there'd  be  a  regular  "Waterloo,  and  that  we  wouldn't  be  the 
victors  either. 

"  "When  the  skunk  wasn't  looking,  I  quietly  pulled  my  blanket 


A  VISIT   FROM   A   SKUNK. 


131 


up  over  my  head,  leaving  only  a  little  peek-hole  to  look  out  of,  and 
waited.  By-and-by  it  got  round  to  the  bunk  and  began  to  take  it 
in.  It  walked  over  my  legs  and  over  the  boy's  legs  two  or  three 
times,  then  it  came  up  on  to  my  chest,  and  I  began  to  think  the 
Day  of  Judgment  had  come.  My,  how  still  I  did  keep !  I  held  my 
breath  till  it  seemed  that  the  next  moment  I  would  blow  up  with  a 
bang  like  a  bomb -shell.  How  long  this  lasted  I  can't  say.  It 
seemed  like  a  week,  but  I  hardly  think  it  was  really  quite  as  long 
as  that.  Well,  by-and-by,  when  I  was  just  about  in  a  state  of  cold 
collapse,  it  walked  up  to  the  hole  in  one  of  the  draught  logs  and 


crawled  in.  The  minute  I  saw  its  tail  disappear  I  was  up  as  if  I  had 
been  shot  out  of  a  gun,  grabbed  the  first  thing  I  could  see,  which 
was  my  hat,  shoved  it  into  the  hole  in  the  log,  and  roared  for  the 
lad  to  turn  out  and  light  the  lamp. 

"  It  took  quite  a  little  while  to  make  him  understand  what  was 
up,  he  was  so  dazed  with  sleep.  When  he  had  at  last  got  his  wits 
together  and  lit  the  lamp,  I  made  him  go  out  and  get  some  damp 
chips  and  rake  some  live  coals  together  on  the  hearth.  All  this 
time  I  was  holding  my  hat  in  that  hole  for  dear  life.  When  every- 
thing was  ready  I  shovelled  up  the  coals  on  an  old  piece  of  tin  I 


132  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

had,  took  out  my  hat,  popped  the  coals  into  the  hole  in  the  draught 
log,  put  the  wet  chips  on  them,  and  began  to  fan  them  with  my  hat 
so  as  to  drive  the  smoke  down  the  hole  to  smoke  the  skunk  out. 
In  a  few  minutes  I  began  to  think  I  smelled  burned  hair.  Then  I 
could  hear  the  skunk  coughing  and  sneezing,  the  sound  gradually 
working  down  the  log  until  at  last  it  stopped.  I  waited  a  while, 
and  hearing  nothing  more,  poured  water  in  the  hole  to  put  the  fire 
out.  I  then  had  the  boy  light  that  lantern  you  see  up  there  with  a 
reflector  in  it,  which  we  call  a  jack-lamp,  and  told  him  to  take  a 
three-cornered  stick  of  firewood,  and  go  round  outside  and  push  it 
into  the  hole  in  the  draught  log.  This  would  let  air  in,  but  keep 
the  skunk  out  if  it  took  the  notion  to  make  us  another  call,  as  I 
thought  likely.  I  warned  him  to  be  careful  to  see  the  skunk  had 
gone  before  he  went  near  the  log.  Now,  the  boy  had  come  up  to 
learn  trapping,  and  he  was  so  swollen  with  zeal  that  the  buttons 
would  hardly  stay  on  his  shirt.  What  did  that  idiot  do  but  drop  his 
stick  of  firewood,  pick  up  a  trap  he  saw  lying  outside,  set  it  in  the 
mouth  of  the  draught  log,  and  chain  up  the  trap  to  a  bush  growing 
alongside  the  cabin.  While  he  was  doing  that  I  fortified  the  other 
log,  and  when  he  got  back  we  turned  in  again,  I  without  a  suspi- 
cion of  what  he  had  been  up  to. 

"  Next  morning  when  I  awoke  the  boy  was  still  snoozing  away  as 
innocent  as  a  lamb.  I  thought  I'd  turn  out  and  get  breakfast,  and 
let  him  sleep  till  it  was  ready,  he  seemed  so  comfortable.  Just  as  I 
was  going  to  move  the  rattle  of  a  chain  struck  my  ear.  Now,  there 
wasn't  a  chain  except  a  trap-chain  within  fifty  miles,  and  when  a 
trap-chain  rattles  that  generally  means  that  something  is  rattling 
it.  You  may  believe  it  made  me  prick  up  my  ears  mighty  sharp. 
It  didn't  take  me  long  to  find  out  that  the  sound  was  inside  the 
camp.  I  got  up  on  my  hands  and  knees,  and  was  just  going  to 
get  on  my  feet  to  investigate,  when  I  was  almost  paralyzed  to  see 
the  back  of  that  skunk  under  the  fir-boughs  of  the  bunk  not  more 
than  four  feet  from  me.  It  was  all  plain  enough  then.  The  boy 
had  trapped  it,  and  when  it  found  it  couldn't  get  away  it  had 
burrowed  under  the  side  of  the  cabin  and  up  among  the  fir-boughs 
which  made  our  bed.     The  bed  had  been  used  a  long  time,  and 


A  VISIT   FROM   A   SKUNK. 


135 


had  been  boughed  down  fresh  pretty  often,  so  that  it  was  maybe 
a  foot  or  so  thick.  Into  this  the  skunk  had  burrowed  as  far  as  the 
chain  of  the  trap  would  let  him,  and  there  he  was  in  plain  sight, 
the  top  of  his  back  under  not  more  than  three  or  four  inches  of 
small  dry  twigs. 

"  I  don't  know  when  I  have  been  so  taken  aback.     If  the  skunk 


A   TRAPPER  S   CABIN. 


rose  in  its  wrath,  it  would  lift  up  the  twigs  and  be  right  in  among 
us.  Though  it  had  behaved  like  a  gentleman  and  a  scholar  so  far, 
a  skunk  is  not  an  animal  to  excite  much  confidence  in  any  one  who 
knows  it.  It  isn't  often  that  I  am  at  a  loss  what  to  do  in  the  woods, 
but  this  time  I  was  puzzled.  I  finally  concluded  to  cut  a  pointed 
stake,  put  some  food  and  water  outside  to  coax  the  skunk  out,  and 
then  to  watch.  If  it  went  out,  then  I  could  jam  the  stake  down 
and  block  the  hole  so  that  it  couldn't  get  back. 


136  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

"  I  went  outside  and  cut  my  stake.  When  I  came  back  there 
lay  the  boy  still  fast  asleep.  I  stirred  him  up.  '  Did  you  set  a  trap 
for  that  skunk  V  I  asked.  '  Yes,'  he  answered,  '  have  I  got  it  V  with 
a  grin  of  delight  on  his  face  as  though  he  had  won  the  first  prize  in 
a  big  lottery.  '  Yes,'  I  said,  '  you've  got  it  fast  enough ;  and  now 
that  you  have  got  it,  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?  It  rather 
strikes  me  that  you  have  got  us  too.  Come  here  and  take  a  look.' 
He  took  one  glance,  and  his  face  changed  as  though  some  one  had 
poured  cold  water  down  his  back.  His  interest  in  that  skunk  was 
gone. 

"  I  was  just  going  to  tell  him  to  take  some  meat  and  water  out- 
side, when  the  skunk,  frightened  perhaps  at  the  sound  of  our  voices, 
crawled  back  through  its  hole.  As  soon  'as  it  was  outside  I  jammed 
down  the  stake  in  front  of  it,  and  told  the  boy  to  hold  it  down  for 
dear  life.  I  didn't  dare  to  drive  it  with  my  axe,  as  I  would  have 
liked  to  do.  Then  I  got  a  long  pole  and  drove  a  nail  into  it,  took 
my  rifle,  and  climbed  up  on  the  roof  of  the  camp.  It  was  a  scene 
for  an  artist.  There  I  was,  sprawled  out  at  full  length  on  the  cabin 
roof,  with  just  one  eye  over  the  edge,  hooking  away  with  the  pole 
at  the  chain  of  the  trap,  trying  to  get  it  loose  so  the  skunk  could  go 
off.  I  had  to  be  mighty  careful  about  it,  too,  for  fear  I'd  hurt  the 
skunk ;  for  while  it  was  so  close  to  camp  I  had  a  great  regard  for 
its  feelings. 

"  I  guess  it  took  me  at  least  half  an  hour  to  get  that  chain  loose, 
and  then  I  had  to  wait  another  half-hour  before  the  skunk  would 
make  up  its  mind  that  it  was  free  and  could  go  away.  Finally  it 
walked  off,  and  when  it  was  at  a  safe  distance  I  shot  it.  You'd 
better  believe  that  when  I  had  finished  with  that  skunk  and  had 
my  trap  again,  I  felt  as  though  I'd  been  through  the  wars  and  was 
the  only  man  of  my  regiment  left  alive. 

"  Whew,  what  a  long  yarn  I've  spun !  Now,  Dick,  you  tell  us 
what  you  know  about  the  boundary,  and  we'll  call  it  a  day  and 
turn  in." 

AVhile  the  trapper  had  been  telling  his  story  a  substantial  meal 
had  been  prepared  and  eaten,  and  everything  made  ready  for  the 
night.    The  trapper  and  Harry  threw  themselves  down  on  the  bunk, 


IN    THE   BOUNDARY   KANGE. 


HOW   OUR   NORTH-EASTERN   BOUNDARY   WAS   LOCATED.         139 

while  Dick  took  his  place  before  the  fire  on  "the  deacon's  seat,"  and 
began. 

"  As  I  never  heard  the  story  but  once,  I  can't  remember  it  all, 
but  it  was  something  like  this  : 

"  The  original  treaty  acknowledging  the  independence  of  the 
United  States  was  made  in  1783.  It  described  the  boundary  which 
should  divide  the  United  States  from  the  British  possessions.  The 
boundary  line  was  to  run  from  the  north-west  angle  of  Nova  Scotia. 
What  was  then  known  as  Nova  Scotia  included  a  part  of  what  is 
now  known  as  New  Brunswick.  In  order  to  fix  this  angle,  the  treaty 
directed  that  a  line  should  be  run  due  north  from  the  source  of  the 
St.  Croix  Kiver  to  the  highlands  which  divide  the  streams  that  flow 
into  the  St.  Lawrence  River  from  those  that  flow  into  the  Atlantic 
Ocean.  This  seems  all  very  plain  and  simple.  But  unfortunately 
three  different  rivers  had  been  called  the  St.  Croix,  and  each  of  them 
was  well  provided  with  branches,  each  of  which  branches  had  a 
source.  It  was  found  impossible  to  agree  upon  which  of  these 
three  rivers  was  the  St.  Croix  of  the  treaty,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
various  sources.  The  British  tried  to  levy  taxes,  and  arrested 
American  settlers  in  the  disputed  territory,  which  naturally  made 
the  Maine  people  very  angry.  So  there  was  one  constant  quarrel 
over  the  boundary  from  the  ocean  to  Vermont.  We  claimed  almost 
to  the  St.  Lawrence  River.  They  claimed  a  great  part  of  Maine. 
The  feeling  on  both  sides  was  very  bitter.  Finally,  in  1842,  they 
sent  over  Lord  Ashburton,  who  was  known  and  liked  here,  to  set- 
tle the  matter.  The  English  story  was  that  just  before  Lord  Ash- 
burton came  over,  Mr.  Sparks,  the  American  historian,  found  among 
the  papers  of  the  French  Government  a  letter  written  by  Benjamin 
Franklin,  which  referred  to  a  map  on  which  he  had  marked  the 
boundary  line  agreed  on  when  the  treaty  was  made.  Mr.  Sparks 
was  said  to  have  found  the  map.  On  it  the  boundary  was  marked 
with  a  red  line  exactly  as  the  British  claimed  it.  Mr.  Sparks  was 
said  to  have  sent  a  copy  of  the  map  and  letter  to  Daniel  Webster, 
who  kept  them  under  lock  and  key.  He  was  forced  to  use  them, 
however,  though  secretly,  to  make  our  Senate  confirm  Lord  Ash- 
burton's  treaty,  which  gave  seven-twelfths  of  the  disputed  territory 


140 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE    WOODS. 


to  us,  and  five-twelfths  to  Great  Britain.    The  English  Government 
found  this  out,  or  believed  they  had  found  it  out,  only  after  the 

treaty  was  signed. 
Our  people  have,  I  be- 
lieve, always  claimed 
that  Mr.  Sparks's  map 
was  made  and  marked 
long  before  the  Kevo- 
lution,  and  referred  to 
some  old  French  claim, 
and  that  it  was  not 
and  could  not  be  the 
map  referred  to  in  the 
Franklin  letter. 

"  As  soon  as  they 
found  this  out,  the 
British  Government 
ordered  a  search  for 
the  map  and  letter  to 
be  made.  No  map 
which  could  be  that 
referred  to  in  the 
Franklin  letter  could 
be  found.  But  anoth- 
er old  map  was  found 
on  which  the  bound- 
ary line  was  marked 
out  in  red  just  as  we 
claimed  it.  The  peo- 
ple of  both  countries 
insisted  that  they 
were  cheated  in  this 
treaty,  poor  Lord  Ash- 
burton  being  abused 
in  England  like  a  pickpocket.  That's  all  I  know  about  it." 
ulSow,  Mr.  Dant,  you  tell  us  what  you  know,"  said  Harry. 


ON   TIIE   WAY   TO   THE   ST.   LAWRENCE 


THE   BOUNDARY   LINE. 


141 


"  Well,  I  don't  know  so  very  much.  I  know  that  this  portion 
of  the  line,  from  the  head-waters  of  the  St.  John  River  almost  to 
the  Vermont  State  line,  goes  wandering  through  this  wilderness, 
following  the  top  of  the  ridge  dividing  the  waters  which  flow  into 
the  ocean  from  those  flowing  into  the  St.  Lawrence  River.  When 
they  laid  out  the  boundary,  not  long  after  1812,  they  cut  a  lane 
through  the  woods  two  rods  wide  the  whole  length  of  the  line, 
clearing  every  growing  thing  of  any  size  out  of  it.  They  also  set 
up  those  iron  monuments  at  intervals.  It  was  a  part  of  the  lane 
you  saw  from  the  top  of  that  tree  this  afternoon,  which  you  called 
a  road ;  and  you  described  it  very  well  when  you  said  that  it 
looked  like  a  city  street  running  between  the  houses.  As  is  al- 
ways the  case  when  land  is  cleared  of  large  forest-trees  and  then 
left  to  nature,  other  kinds  of  trees  spring  up ;  and  it's  the  differ- 
ence in  appearance  between  the  old  forest  and  the  second  growth 
which  makes  the  line,  from  a  distance,  look  like  a  road.  It  looks 
the  same  in  this  respect  from  one  end  to  the  other,  and  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  it  continued  to  be  just  as  unmistakable  for  a  hundred 
years  to  come.  There,  that's  all  I  know  about  it.  Now  let's  turn 
in  so  that  we  can  get  an  early  start  to-morrow." 


CHAPTER  X. 


Trailing  a  Wounded  Deer. — "A  Crack  Shot." — Encounter  with  Caribou.— A  Dead 
Deer.— A  Deer-sled— A  Tump-line.— Coasting  on  a  Deer. 

A  S  they  paddled  up  the  stream  the  next  morning  to  search  for 
-^-*-  Dick's  deer,  the  trapper,  as  was  his  custom,  told  them  what 
he  proposed  to  do,  and  how  they  were  to  co-operate. 

"I  expect  we  will  find  that  deer  as  dead  as  a  door -nail,"  he 
said.  "  Still,  we  ought  to  take  all  the  chances.  When  deer  think 
they  are  pursued,  they  have  a  trick  of  taking  a  course  shaped  like 
a  fish-hook.  They  start  at  the  end  of  the  hook  the  fish-line  would 
be  tied  to,  and  go  pretty  straight  till  they  think  it's  time  to  rest. 
Then  they  turn  round,  and  halt  about  where  the  point  of  the  hook 


OVERLOOKING  THE  BOG  VALLEY. 


TRAILING   A   WOUNDED   DEER.  145 

would  be  so  that  they  can  watch  their  back  track.  So,  in  still 
hunting  we  don't  follow  on  the  exact  trail  more  than  enough  to 
be  sure  we  are  going  right.  In  every  kind  of  hunting  I  know 
anything  about,  nine-tenths  of  the  skill  required  lies  in  seeing  your 
game  before  it  sees  you ;  the  other  tenth  consists  in  putting  the 
bullet  in  a  mortal  spot  when  the  chance  to  fire  comes. 

"  But  in  following  up  a  wounded  animal,  particularly  now,  when 
there  is  no  snow  on  the  ground,  this  won't  answer.  I  know  where 
it  started  from.  There  I  will  study  its  track  until  I  can  be  pretty 
sure  to  recognize  it  again;  for  I  shall  find  hundreds  of  other  tracks 
crossing  it  in  all  directions,  and  it's  only  on  that  one  particular  trail 
that  there  is  anything  for  us.  The  wind,  what  there  is  of  it,  is  all 
right.  Since  I  must  lead,  I'll  carry  the  rifle,  as  it  should  be  ready 
to  fire  at  once.  As  I  said  before,  I  expect  to  find  the  deer  dead.  I 
also  expect  to  see  it  before  it  sees  me,  if  it  isn't  dead.  But  then 
things  don't  always  turn  out  just  as  we  expect.  If  the  deer  is  alive, 
and  I  see  it  first,  you,  Dick,  shall  have  the  chance  to  finish  it ;  but 
if  it  is  alive,  and  sees  or  hears  me  before  I  see  it,  it  may  jump  up  to 
run.  In  that  case  there  will  be  no  time  to  pass  the  rifle  to  you,  and 
I  will  have  to  shoot.  Remember,  not  a  word  is  to  be  spoken.  Look 
where  you  put  your  feet,  and  step  on  nothing  that  will  crack  or 
make  a  noise.  Don't  let  your  clothes  brush  against  the  bushes. 
You'll  have  plenty  of  time  to  be  careful,  for  we  will  go  very  slow. 
If  I  hold  up  my  hand,  stop  where  you  are  until  I  beckon  for  you  to 
come  on.  If  I  hold  up  my  hand  and  then  beckon  at  once,  that 
means  that  I  see  the  deer,  that  it's  alive,  and  that  Dick  is  to  come 
up  to  shoot.  Then,  Dick,  take  time  and  walk  as  though  you  were 
stepping  among  eggs.  But  you,  Harry,  stay  where  you  are.  Two 
are  twice  as  likely  to  make  a  noise  as  one." 

Ascending  the  branch  of  the  stream,  they  landed  where  the 
deer  had  stood.  The  trapper  spent  some  ten  minutes  in  careful 
study  of  the  deer's  tracks.  Each  individual  footprint  was  sepa- 
rately and  deliberately  examined.  Then  throwing  a  cartridge  into 
the  barrel  of  his  repeating  rifle,  he  ascended  the  low  bank  and  en- 
tered the  bushes.  The  boys  followed.  In  and  among  the  bushes 
paths  ran  in  every  direction — not  the  clear  and  open  path  of  the 

10 


146 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


settlement,  for  the  stems  of  the  bushes,  often  as  thick  as  a  man's 
wrist,  projected  from  either  side  across  and  mingled  their  branches 
together   over  the   narrow  openings.     Indeed   they  were   apparent 


ON    THE   BOG    STREAM. 


rather  because  the  ground  in  them  was  bare  of  vegetation  than 
because  they  afforded  an  open  way.  In  these  lanes,  if  we  may  so 
call  them,  the  earth  was  carpeted  with  fallen  leaves  still  damp  from 
the  night  air,  or,  where  they  had  been  swept  away,  bare  ground 
appeared. 

There  was  no  need  to  recall  their  recent  lesson  to  decide  that 
these  lanes  were  deer-roads,  for  they  were  literally  trodden  with 
tracks,  like  a  barn -yard.  As  the  boys  saw  them  running  and 
branching  in  every  direction,  hope  sank  within  them.  How  could 
even  a  hound  follow  one  individual  track  among  these  hundreds  ? 
How  much  less  one  who  must  rely  on  sight  alone  to  direct  him  ! 

Still  the  trapper  kept  on ;  slowly,  it  is  true,  often  pausing,  some- 
times studying  the  ground  keenly  for  two  or  three  minutes  or 
more  without  advance,  then  resuming  his  way.  The  boys  followed, 
stopping  when  he  stopped,  moving  forward  when  he  set  the  exam- 
ple, always  mindful  of  his  caution  to  make  no  noise.  At  length 
they  emerged  upon  the  open  bog,  a  level  expanse  dotted  with  isl- 
ands of  stunted  spruce-trees,  and  covered  with  the  same  yellowish- 


TRAILING   A   WOUNDED   DEER. 


U" 


gray  water-soaked  moss  they  had  passed  over  the  day  before.     The 
forest-clad  hills  rose  from  its  farther  edge  an  eighth  of  a  mile  away. 

The  trapper  paused,  and  beckoning  the  boys  to  approach,  said 
in  a  low  tone  : 

"  That  deer  was  worse  scared  than  I  had  hoped.  It  has  crossed 
the  bog  and  taken  to  the  woods.  We're  going  to  have  a  tough  job. 
I  will  go  ahead  as  far  as  I 
know  I  am  right.  Then  when 
I  beckon,  you  come  up  and 
hold  that  point  for  me,  so  that 
if  I  have  to  try  back  I  may 
start  again  all  right ;  and  so 
on  till  we  are  across  the  bog. 
Remember  what  I  told  you 
yesterday,  and  keep  clear  of 
bare  ground  and  standing  wa- 
ter, or  you  may  get  mired,  or 
worse.  If  the  bog  waves  under 
you  like  thin  ice,  you  needn't 
be  afraid.  Though  there  is  wa- 
ter underneath,  the  surface  on 
which  you  stand  is  so  matted 
together  with  roots  as  tough 
as  twine  that  it'll  hold  you  all 
right.  But  it's  as  well  to  make 
a  sure  thing  of  it,  so  keep,  say, 
ten  or  fifteen  feet  apart  while 
crossing  such  going ;  that  is,  if 
we  find  it." 

"  Have  you  seen  any  blood, 
Mr.  Dant  %n  whispered  Harry. 

"  No,  and  I  hardly  expected 
to,  hit  where  that  animal  is  hit. 

So  far  I'm  right  all  the  same,  but  over  this  bog  it's  different, 
trail  of  our  deer  will  be  plain  enough,  but  so  will  every  other 


CAMP   IN    THE    WOODS. 


The 
deer- 
trail.     This  moss  don't  hold  a  sharp  impression  like  soft  earth,  and 


148 


CITY    BOYS   IN    THE   WOODS. 


it  will  only  be  at  intervals  that  I'll  find  a  track  that  I  can  be  sure 
is  the  one  we  want.  I'll  do  my  best,  though,  and  if  we  fail,  as  we 
may,  it  sha'n't  be  for  lack  of  trying,  anyway.     Our  deer  stopped 

running,  and  began  to  walk 
about  ten  feet  back.  It 
was  beginning  to  feel  pret- 
ty sick  then.  It  won't  go 
far  after  it  gets  to  cover 
again.  If  we  can  only  car- 
ry the  trail  across  this  bog 
we'll  be  all  right,  but  to  do 
that  will  take  all  I  know, 
and  perhaps  a  little  more. 
However,  there  is  a  chance, 
and  as  I  told  you  before,  in 
hunting  we  must  take  all 
the  chances  there  are." 
—  The    trapper    then    re- 

sumed his  task,  the  boys 
watching  him  anxiously 
from  the  edge  of  the  bushes.  He  advanced  al- 
most foot  by  foot,  hesitating  frequently.  Occa- 
sionally he  would  stop  altogether,  and  stooping 
down,  feel  footprint  after  footprint  with  his  fin- 
gers. When  some  fifty  yards  had  been  so  passed, 
he  beckoned  the  boys  to  approach  ;  and  when 
they  had  done  so,  pointed  to  a  piece  of  compar- 
atively firm  and  dry  ground,  and  then  moved  on 
without  a  word. 

The  boys  examined  the  place  the  trapper  had 
indicated  by  his  gesture.  At  least  twenty  dif- 
ferent deer-tracks  were  plainly  imprinted  on  it. 
True,  some  were  a  little  larger  and  others  a  little  smaller.  But 
which,  if  any,  had  been  made  by  their  deer  seemed  to  them  a 
hopeless  riddle.  Again  they  waited,  and  waited  long.  Twice  the 
trapper  returned  to  where  they  wrere  standing,  and  without  a  word, 


A    TENANT   OF    THE 
BOG. 


"A   CRACK   SHOT."  149 

took  up  the  trail  afresh  from  that  point.  His  thin  lips  were  com- 
pressed until  but  a  straight  line  represented  his  mouth,  and  there 
was  a  glitter  in  his  keen  eyes  they  had  never  seen  before.  He 
would  have  been  indeed  but  a  careless  observer  who  would  not 
have  recognized  in  that  face  the  face  of  one  who  would  not  accept 
of  failure  where  success  was  possible. 

And  so  at  last,  when  the  patience  of  the  bo}Ts  had  long  been 
quite  exhausted,  they  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  forest.  Here  the 
trapper  again  left  them,  was  gone  about  ten  minutes,  and  then  re- 
turning, said  in  his  natural  tone  of  voice : 

"  I  don't  think  it  worth  while  to  go  any  farther,  boys.  It's 
tough  luck,  I  know,  to  lose  an  animal  this  way,  but  it  will  happen. 
We  can  go  as  far  as  I  went,  or  a  little  farther  if  you  like,  though  it 
won't  make  much  difference  in  the  result." 

He  started  on  and  they  followed. 

"Here's  where  I  stopped,''  at  length  he  said.  "Never  mind, 
Dick,  it  was  a  good  shot  for  the  first  time.  I  don't  know  that  I 
have  seen  a  much  more  successful  one — that  is,  for  the  first  time. 
I  had  a  college  student  with  me  once,  as  nice  a  fellow  as  I  ever 
saw.  It  was  at  night,  and  we  were  in  the  boat  just  about  where 
you  were  when  you'  fired  yesterday.  We  drove  out  a  deer  on  to 
the  opposite  bank,  and  it  went  on  the  jump  too.  He  had  a  fifty- 
calibre  long-magazine  Winchester  rifle — one  fit  for  a  grizzly  bear. 
He  brought  that  big  rifle  to  his  hip,  not  to  his  shoulder,  and  in 
that  dim,  uncertain  light,  with  that  deer  bouncing  like  an  India- 
rubber  ball,  he  laid  it  out  as  stiff  as  a  stake  with  a  bullet  through 
its  neck.  Well,  now,  perhaps  it  didn't  make  me  stare  !  Here, 
thought  I,  is  the  kind  of  a  man  to  have  along  with  you.  If  we 
don't  have  all  the  game  we  want  this  trip,  and  to  spare,  it  will 
be  strange. 

"  I  gave  that  fellow  at  least  fifty  chances  after  that,  every  one 
of  them  ever  so  much  better,  and  he  never  touched  hide  nor  hair 
again.  Oh,  the  things  he  used  to  do  and  not  do,  they  were  enough 
to  turn  a  man's  hair  gray.  I'd  just  make  up  my  mind  he  had  done 
all  the  foolishness  that  man  could,  when  he  would  break  out  in 
some  fresh  place,  and  pretty  near  paralyze  me  with  wonder.     We 


150  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

were  camped  over  near  a  pond  some  four  miles  east  of  here.  He 
went  alone  to  the  pond  one  morning  about  sunrise,  and  saw  three 
caribou.  The  pond  was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  camp,  and 
the  caribou  were  on  the  other  side  of  the  pond  from  him.  He 
sneaked  up  to  the  edge  of  the  water  behind  some  bushes,  and  fired 
all  the  cartridges  he  happened  to  have  in  the  magazine  of  his  rifle 
at  them — some  four  or  five,  I  think.  As  usual,  he  missed  every  shot, 
the  caribou  skipping  round  a  good  deal,  bat  not  going  off.  That's 
often  the  case  when  the  pond  is  small  and  surrounded  by  big  hills. 
The  game  can't  tell  the  shot  from  its  echo,  and  if  they  can't  scent 
the  danger  they  don't  know  which  way  to  go.  Well,  that  fellow 
leaned  his  rifle  against  the  bushes,  and  went  back  to  camp  for  more 
cartridges.  He  was  bound  to  be  fixed  that  time,  so  he  took  fifty, 
told  me  what  had  happened,  and  we  went  back  together.  When  we 
got  to  the  edge  of  the  woods  where  we  could  look  out,  there  stood, 
within  twenty-five  feet  of  his  ritle,  and  between  us  and  it,  as  hand- 
some a  bull-caribou  as  I  ever  saw. 

"But  you  are  not  of  that  kind,  Dick,  I  know.  Your  shot  was 
much  more  successful  than  first  shots  generally  are,  and  I  congratu- 
late you  on  it." 

So  saying,  the  trapper  grasped  Dick  by  the  hand,  and  with  some 
little  violence  dragged  him  around  to  the  other  side  of  the  clump  of 
bushes  near  which  they  had  been  standing. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  that  ?"  he  exclaimed.  At  their  feet  lay  a 
fine  buck,  stone-dead. 

The  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling,  from  utter  despair  to  the  com- 
plete realization  of  his  hopes,  was  almost  too  much  for  Dick.  With 
open  mouth  and  eyes,  and  with  trembling  lips,  he  gazed  upon  his 
fallen  prize  as  though  struck  dumb. 

The  trapper  looked  at  him  a  moment  with  some  surprise,  and 
then  laying  his  hand  on  his  shoulder,  said  : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Dick,  a  thousand  times.  I  see  I've  carried 
my  silly  joke  too  far.  I  felt  so  good  at  finding  it  after  the  tough 
work  we  had  following  it  across  the  bog,  that  I  didn't  stop  to  think 
that  what  might  be  fun  to  me  would  be  none  to  you." 

Dick  turned  instantly,  and  grasping  the  trapper's   unoccupied 


THE  DEER  IS  FOUND. 


151 


WE  CAMPED  NEAR  A  POM)  ABOUT  FOLK  MILES  FROM  HERE. 


hand  in  both  of  his,  said  :  "  Don't  speak  to  me  in  that  way,  Mr. 
Dant.  How  can  I,  how  can  we,  ever  thank  yon  for  what  you  have 
(J one — for  what  you  are  doing  for  us  every  day  \  We  came  upon 
you  vagabonds,  homeless  and  helpless,  and  you  treat  us  as  though 
we  were  paying  you  ten  dollars  a  minute  instead  of  nothing  but 
thanks  and  promises." 

"  There,  there,  there,"  said  the  trapper,  not  a  little  moved.    "  Let's 
call  it  square.     You  and  Harry  wait  here,  while  I  go  to  get  the 


152  CITY  BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

boat.  I  can  bring  it  up  to  within  about  two  or  three  hundred 
yards.  We'll  load  the  deer  aboard  and  take  it  down  below  the 
camp  and  dress  it.  I  don't  like  to  dress  an  animal  on  the  hunting- 
ground,  for  the  scent  of  the  blood  and  offal  will  scare  the  game 
away  for  a  long  time." 

So  saying,  he  disappeared.  "When  he  returned,  after  the  lapse 
of  half  an  hour,  the  boys  had  quite  recovered  their  equanimity  and 
were  overflowing  with  delight. 

"  It  looks-  as  if  it  was  going  to  give  us  all  we  wanted  to  do  to 
carry  it  down  to  the  boat,"  said  Dick,  surveying  his  prize  with  ex- 
treme satisfaction. 

"  If  you  grab  it  by  one  horn,  Dick,  and  I  by  the  other,  and  we 
then  pull  together,  I  think  it  will  follow." 

Thus,  with  occasional  halts  to  rest,  they  brought  their  game  to 
the  water-side,  Harry  marching  in  front,  singing,  "  Lo !  the  conquer- 
ing hero  comes."  Their  undertaking  came  to  an  end  where  the 
bank  was  but  a  few  inches  above  the  water.  The  boat  was  pulled 
ashore,  tipped  upon  one  side  so  that  it  was  close  to  the  deer,  and  the 
deer  was  rolled  into  it.  The  boat  was  then  let  down  on  to  its  bot- 
tom and  pushed  into  the  water,  with  the  deer  on  board. 

"  Well,  I  must  say  there's  nothing  like  knowing  how  to  do 
things,"  exclaimed  Harry,  surprised  to  see  how  easily  a  task  was 
accomplished  which  he  had  supposed  would  tax  their  energies  to 
the  utmost. 

"  Yes,  it  usually  makes  a  difference,"  quietly  replied  the  trapper. 

As  he  paddled  the  boat  down-stream,  he  asked, 

"  How  did  you  think  we  were  to  carry  that  deer,  Harry  ?" 

"  I  thought  you'd  sling  it  on  a  pole,  or  some  such  way.  The  last 
thing  I  should  have  thought  of  would  have  been  to  skate  it  over 
the  ground  as  you  did.     I  had  no  idea  it  would  slide  so  easy." 

"  The  body  of  a  deer  is  not  quite  as  slippery  as  the  tricks  it  will 
try  to  get  the  best  of  any  danger  which  may  threaten  it,  but  it  is 
very  nearly.  Drag  them  head-first,  so  that  they  move  with  the 
grain  of  the  hair,  and  they  can  be  pulled  over  even  pretty  rough 
ground  much  easier  than  a  person  would  suppose  who  had  never 
tried  it.     We  sometimes  slide  downhill  on  them  in  winter." 


A   DEER   SLED. 


153 


Both  boys  were  anxious  to  know  all  about  it. 

"  I  don't  mean  that  we  slide  down,  then  drag  them  up,  and  then 
slide  down  again,  just  for  fun.  I  only  mean  that  when  taking  a 
deer  to  camp,  if  I  come  to  a  pretty  steep  and  fairly  clear  hill  I  often 
get  astride  of  the  carcass  at  the  top  and  slide  clown  to  the  bottom. 
Very  good  sleds,  too,  they  make  on  a  pinch. 


THE    EDGE    OP    THE   WOODS. 


"  Eight  or  nine  years  ago,  a  man  who  went  by  the  name  of  Billy 
spent  a  winter  trapping  with  me.  He  was  a  good  deal  older  than  I, 
a  real  good  trapper  and  first-rate  woodsman.  Like  most  middle- 
aged  men  who  have  spent  the  greater  part  of  their  lives  alone  in 
the  woods,  he  was  as  queer  a  fellow  as  you'd  find  in  a  week's  rail- 
road travel.    He  never  had  tasted  liquor  or  tobacco,  tea  or  coffee,  in 


154  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

his  life,  and  you  could  rely  on  him  to  do  anything  that  he  thought 
ought  to  be  done  as  you  could  rely  on  the  rising  of  the  sun.  We 
used  to  separate  every  Monday  morning  at  daybreak,  each  taking 
his  own  route  over  his  part  of  our  trapping- lines,  and  not  meet 
again  or  see  a  living  soul  until  the  next  Saturday  evening.  That's 
the  way  trappers  have  to  do ;  going  over  a  fresh  line  every  day, 
travelling  from  the  first  peep  of  dawn  till  the  last  gleam  of  light, 
camping  every  night  in  a  different  place,  and  skinning  every  ani- 
mal they  have  taken  during  the  day,  and  stretching  its  skin  be- 
fore they  sleep,  if  it  takes  till  midnight.  It's  a  hard  life,  a  very 
hard  life,  a  harder  life  than  anything  I  can  say  will  give  you  an 
idea  of. 

"  You  might  suppose  that  a  person  who  had  a  chance  to  talk  but 
once  a  week  would  keep  it  up  pretty  well  then,  and  that's  the  way 
I  used  to  do.  But  as  for  Billy,  he  was  like  a  post  with  a  hole  in  it ; 
beyond  a  grunt,  I  could  hardly  coax  a  sound  out  of  him.  I  some- 
times almost  expected  to  hear  his  jaws  creak  like  an  old  rusty  gate, 
he  used  them  so  seldom.  This  was  his  ordinary  habit ;  but  when 
he  thought  the  time  to  talk  had  come,  he  had  a  gift  of  eloquence 
that  was  fully  as  surprising  as  his  usual  silence.  Let  things  go 
wrong,  or  get  him  mad,  and  he  was  as  peppery  as  he  was  good- 
hearted,  unselfish,  and  trustworthy,  and  at  the  top  of  his  voice  he 
would  pour  out  a  stream  of  remarks,  which  he  never  learned  at 
Sunday-school,  for  fifteen  minutes  on  end,  or  longer  than  that  if 
his  wind  held  out. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  used  to  bother  Billy  more  than  I  ought  to  have 
done.  He  was  as  solemn  as  an  owl,  and  not  much  more  sociable. 
If  there  was  anything  in  this  world  he  did  hate  it  was  any  form 
of  skylarking.  But  as  for  me,  when  Sunday  morning  came  and 
I  knew  I  would  be  warm  and  dry  a  whole  day  and  night,  with 
nothing  to  do  but  to  eat,  sleep,  mend  my  clothes,  and  be  happy,  if 
we  had  had  any  kind  of  luck  with  our  traps  during  the  week  I 
used  to  feel  mighty  frisky.  In  those  days,  if  there  was  any 
froth  in  my  bottle,  the  stopper  didn't  fit  tight  enough  to  keep  it 
in  long. 

"  We  had  been  off  together  after  meat  and  shot  a  deer,  and 


A   TUMP-LINE. 


155 


took  turns   in   towing  it   over  the   snow  to   camp  with   a  tump- 
line." 

"  What's  a  tump-line,  Mr.  Dant  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"  It's  a  broad  band  of  leather,  with  a  moose  -  hide  thong  about 


HEAD   OF    THE   BOG    STREAM. 


eight  feet  long  attached  to  each  end  of  the  band.  The  Indians  use 
them  to  pack  with.  They  arrange  a  blanket  with  these  thongs  in 
such  a  way  that  the  load  may  be  pursed  up  in  it  and  tied.  Indians 
generally  carry  the  load  on  their  shoulders,  with  the  broad  part  of 


156  CITY  BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 

the  tump-line  bearing  against  their  forehead;  but  white  men  usu- 
ally arrange  the  broad  part  over  the  chest,  or  over  one  shoulder 
and  under  the  opposite  arm,  changing  from  one  to  the  other  from 
time  to  time  when  they  feel  like  it.  It  has  the  advantage  of  a 
knapsack,  since  it  doesn't  weigh  anything  and  takes  up  so  little 
room  when  it  is  not  needed,  and  it's  useful  for  lots  of  purposes 
besides  packing ;  but  it  makes  the  meanest  kind  of  pack  to  carry, 
it  balances  so  badly.  If  it  wasn't  that  I  was  off  on  another  trail, 
I'd  tell  you  how  Billy  nearly  hung  himself  with  one.  Perhaps  I 
will  some  time. 

"  Well,  we  were  getting  near  camp,  and  as  it  was  my  turn,  I  was 
in  harness  towing  the  deer.  Billy,  being  unloaded,  was  some  little 
distance  ahead.  It  was  bitter  cold,  and  the  light,  powdery  snow  lay 
three  feet  deep  or  more  through  the  woods.  We  were  on  snow- 
shoes.  We  came  to  a  steep  hill,  near  the  bottom  of  which  was 
our  camp.  The  windfalls  and  bushes  were  weighed  down  and  pret- 
ty well  covered  with  snow,  and  there  lay  the  track  of  our  snow- 
shoes  as  if  we  had  made  it  on  purpose.  It  was  just  the  place  for  a 
slide ;  so  I  rolled  the  deer  on  its  back,  got  astride  of  it,  pulled  its 
head  up  towards  ray  breast  by  its  ears,  called  to  Billy  to  clear  the 
road,  and  shoved  off. 

"  I  supposed  Billy  would  step  off  one  side  and  give  me  a  show ; 
but  not  he.  He  thought  it  was  some  of  my  foolishness ;  and  when 
he  once  had  that  notion  in  his  head,  he  wouldn't  have  looked  round 
or  taken  the  slightest  notice  if  the  Emperor  of  all  the  Russias  had 
been  roaring  at  him.  I  shouted  to  him  the  best  I  knew,  but  he  was 
right  on  his  dignity,  and  pranced  along,  looking  as  square  to  the 
front  as  if  he  was  having  his  picture  taken.  I  couldn't  stop  the 
deer,  and  I  couldn't  steer  it  out  of  the  trench  made  by  our  snow- 
shoes.  Either  he  must  get  out  of  the  way,  or  something  was  bound 
to  happen. 

"  It  did  happen,  and  mighty  quick  too.  The  deer  mounted  his 
snow-shoes,  threw  him  down,  ground  him  clean  out  of  sight  in  the 
floury  snow,  and  rode  right  over  his  body  down  to  the  bottom  of 
the  hill.  As  soon  as  the  deer  stopped  and  I  could  get  off,  I  didn't 
waste  any  time  in  explanations  or  apologies,  but  just  lit  out  for  the 


COLD   COMFORT.  157 

bush  at  my  best  gait.  I  have  heard  it  said,  '  There  is  a  time  for  all 
things.'  When  Billy's  mad  was  fully  up,  it  was  time  to  move — not 
talk.  I  knew  mighty  well  I  couldn't  get  much  pleasure  out  of  his 
company  —  just  then,  at  any  rate  —  and  had  better  make  myself 
scarce. 

"  As  I  was  making  for  cover,  the  woods  and  hills  fairly  echoed 
with  his  remarks.  I  stuck  it  out  in  the  woods  until  I  was  as  hungry 
as  a  wolf  and  as  cold  as  a  frog.  It  must  have  been  pretty  near  nine 
o'clock  at  night  when  I  sneaked  back,  thinking  he'd  be  asleep,  and 
that  I  could  let  the  supper  go,  and  turn  in  mighty  quiet  so  as  not  to 
disturb  him.  But  he  was  laying  for  me.  I'd  no  sooner  stuck  my 
nose  inside  the  door  than  he  jumped  for  me.  I  didn't  wait  for  any 
foolishness,  but  got  out  of  there  as  quick  as  I  knew  how.  He  chased 
me,  but  he  didn't  stand  a  show  while  I  had  my  snow-shoes  on  and 
he  had  none.  He  soon  found  that  out  and  stopped.  Then  he  began 
to  talk  to  me  in  a  way  fit  to  make  a  man's  hair  curl.  He'd  give  it 
to  me  for  a  while,  and  then  make  a  dive  to  catch  me.  Then  he"d 
stop,  give  me  some  more  of  his  opinion  of  the  kind  of  chap  I  was, 
and  then  make  another  dive,  and  so  on.  By -and -by  he  was  so 
clean  pumped  out  that  he  couldn't  say  another  word.  Then  I 
began.  My !  how  I  did  talk  to  him  !  butter  wouldn't  melt  in 
my  mouth.  I  said  everything  I  could  think  of  to  smooth  matters 
over;  and  when  I  couldn't  think  of  anything  more,  I  began  back 
at  the  beginning  and  said  it  all  over  again.  I  offered,  if  he  would 
help  me,  to  drag  that  deer  right  then  up  to  the  top  of  the  hill, 
and  that  he  might  ride  me  down  if  he  liked — anything  and  every- 
thing for  peace.  I  didn't  tell  him  that  I  knew  he'd  cut  it  up  hours 
before.  '  Speech  is  silver,  silence  is  gold,'  is  another  of  the  good 
things  I've  heard. 

"  Finally,  either  my  persuasions  or  the  cold — for  the  thermom- 
eter must  have  been  more  than  twenty  degrees  below  zero — paci- 
fied him  and  peace  was  declared.  Still,  until  he  turned  in  I  took 
precious  good  care  to  keep  between  him  and  the  door  of  the  camp 
that  night." 

"  He  must  have  looked  funny  when  he  first  dug  himself  out  of 
the  snow,"  said  Harry. 


158 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


"  That's  what  I  thought  when  I  got  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill," 
replied  the  trapper;  "but  the  fun  for  me  was  all  gone  out  of  it 
long  before  a  treaty  of  peace  was  made.  If  the  thing  was  to  have 
been  done  over  the  next  day,  I  would  have  been  right  glad  to  trade 
places  with  him.  The  way  it  turned  out,  if  there  was  any  laugh  at 
all  in  it,  it  was  on  his  side,  not  mine.  It  was  mighty  cold  comfort 
that  I  got  out  of  that  Sunday." 


CHAPTER   XI. 


Venison.— The  Trapper's  Refrigerator;  its  Lock  and  Key.— Beaver.— Beaver  Dams, 
— Beaver  Food.  —  The  Beaver's  House. —The  Beaver's  Food -pile. —  The  Boat 
Thieves. 

T3EL0W  the  camp  boat-landing,  where  the  trapper  and  his  cora- 
-*^  panions  went  to  dress  their  deer,  the  character  of  the  stream 
changed.  Rocks  appeared  above  its  surface,  the  current  quick- 
ened, the  protruding  stones  became  more  frequent,  until  at  length 
the  brown  water,  so  smooth  and  oily  above,  broke  into  foam,  and 
took  its  way  to  the  sea  through  the  overarching  evergreen  forest, 
a  narrow,  raging  mountain  torrent. 

Having  converted  the  deer  into  venison,  they  returned  with  it 
to  the  camp  boat-landing. 

"  If  you  would  like  to  see  my  refrigerator,"  said  the  trapper, 


160  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

"  take  a  load  of  meat  and  come  along."  He  led  them  a  short  dis- 
tance. There  a  strong  stream,  a  yard  or  so  wide,  burst  from  under 
an  abrupt  forest-covered  bank,  and  ran  into  the  bog  stream  about 
thirty  feet  distant.  Near  its  source  its  bed  had  been  enlarged,  deep- 
ened, and  stoned  up,  until  it  appeared  like  a  well,  into  which  the 
water  flowed  on  one  side  and  escaped  at  the  other.  "  Put  your 
hand  in  that  water  for  a  minute,"  said  the  trapper.  Both  boys 
did  so. 

"  Whew !"  exclaimed  Harry,  withdrawing  his  hand  and  squeez- 
ing it  with  the  other.  "  I  never  did  see  such  freezing  water.  It 
makes  my  hand  fairly  ache,  it's  so  cold." 

"  That's  where  the  refrigerator  comes  in,"  replied  the  trapper. 
"  Put  your  meat  into  the  well  and  get  the  rest  of  it,  while  I  go  up 
to  the  cabin  for  my  lock  and  key  to  lock  it  up."  As  the  boys  were 
bringing  the  last  of  the  venison,  the  trapper  returned,  bearing  in  his 
hand  a  white  rag  the  size  of  a  small  handkerchief. 

"  We'll  first  cut  off  our  dinner,"  he  said,  "  and  then  we'll  make 
our  meat-safe  burglar-proof."  Having  selected  what  he  wished  for 
immediate  use,  he  fastened  the  white  rag  to  a  bush  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  it  hung  spread  out  to  its  full  extent  immediately  over  the 
well.  "There!  There's  nothing  to  disturb  our  meat  in  this  coun- 
try except  wild  animals,  and  as  long  as  that  rag  waves,  the  Treas- 
ury of  the  United  States  isn't  more  safe  from  robbers  than  our  re- 
frigerator will  be.  That  white  rag  is  my  lock  and  key,  and  a  safe 
and  sure  one  it  is,  too." 

"  How  long  will  the  meat  keep  there,  Mr.  Dant  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"  I  have  kept  it  there  for  over  three  weeks,  when  the  weather 
was  much  warmer  than  now.  The  outside  gets  white  and  a  little 
stringy,  it's  true,  long  before,  but  that  I  don't  use.  The  inside, 
though,  will  be  as  sweet  as  a  nut  for  three  weeks  and  more,  at  any 
rate.     I  never  tried  it  longer." 

Dinner  was  next  prepared.  The  first  vigor  of  his  appetite  ap- 
peased, Dick  said :  "  This  venison  doesn't  taste  like  that  we  get  at 
home ;  and  then,  it's  as  tender  as  can  be.  I  have  always  heard  that 
venison  had  to  be  quite  ancient  before  it  was  fit  to  eat,  but  it  seems 
to  me  this  could  hardly  be  better." 


MAINE   VENISON. 


161 


"  Yes,1'  said  Harry, 
"  I've  noticed  the  same 
thing.  There's  a  sort  of 
strong,  queer  taste  about 
venison  at  home  that  this 
at  all." 

"  You  are  not  the  only  persons 
I  have  heard  say  that.  Whether 
our  deer  are  naturally  better  than 

those  sent  to  market,  or  whether  it's  because  market  venison  has 
been   run   to   death  with  hounds,  I  can't   say  ;   though  I  suspect 
that  hounding  has  a  good  deal  to  do  with  it.     I  don't  think  any 
11 


BELOW    THE   BOG   CAMP. 


162  CITY   BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 

meat  that  has  been  half  run  and  half  scared  to  death  is  fit 
to  eat." 

"  Then  you  don't  approve  of  hunting  deer  with  dogs  ?" 

"Well,  no — not  in  this  country,  anyway.  It  may  be  all  right 
in  some  region  where  the  conditions  are  different,  but  here  it's 
against  the  law,  and  a  good  law  it  is  too,  I  think.  But  there's  one 
kind  of  hunting  deer  with  dogs  that  I  don't  see  how  any  man  who 
calls  himself  a  gentleman  or  a  sportsman  can  try  more  than  once : 
that  is,  to  put  a  lot  of  hounds  into  the  woods  near  a  lake,  while  the 
hunters  watch  the  water  from  ambush.  When  a  deer  hears  the  dogs 
howl,  as  they  do  as  soon  as  they  strike  a  fresh  scent,  its  instinct  is 
to  go  for  water.  It  enters  the  lake  and  tries  to  put  it  between  itself 
and  the  dogs.  The  hunters  wait  until  the  deer  is  too  far  from  shore 
to  get  back  before  they  can  reach  it,  and  then  chase  it  in  a  boat. 
The  poor  animal  hasn't  the  ghost  of  a  chance  for  its  life.  They 
don't  even  shoot  at  a  distance  in  which  it  is  possible  to  miss,  for  the 
deer,  if  killed,  would  sink.  They  run  up  alongside  in  the  boat,  one 
man  holds  the  poor  thing  by  the  tail,  while  another  blows  its  brains 
out,  or  kills  it  with  a  knife  or  club.  I  know  there  are  some  who  call 
this  kind  of  thing  sport,  but  if  they  are  right,  then  the  butcher  who 
runs  a  slaughter-house  is  a  sportsman." 

"  By-the-way,  Mr.  Dant,  you  didn't  tell  us  what  carried  off  the 
boat  when  it  was  missing.  You  seemed  sure  the  rope  had  been  cut, 
and  sure  that  the  boat  hadn't  been  taken  by  man.  Did  the  rope 
chafe  off  against  something,  so  that  it  looked  as  if  it  was  cut  ?" 

"  Xo ;  the  rope  didn't  chafe  off.  It  was  cut,  fast  enough.  I 
found  out  what  did  it  as  soon  as  I  looked  at  the  boat :  it  was 
beavers." 

"  Beavers !"  exclaimed  Dick.  "  Are  there  really  live  beavers 
here?" 

"  Yes ;  there's  one  family  of  six  on  this  stream,"  replied  the 
trapper. 

"  Have  they  houses  here,  and  dams  ?  and  have  they  cut  down 
trees,  and  all  that  kind  of  thing  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"  Yes.  Here's  as  good  a  chance  to  study  beaver  as  any  place  I 
know  of  just  now.     This  bog  is  a  very  old  beaver  settlement.     I 


BEAVER.  163 

think  at  one  time  they  had  a  dam  somewhere  down  near  where  we 
dressed  the  deer,  which  kept  all  these  bogs  flooded.  I  can't  account 
for  all  the  'dead  tamaracks  along  the  stream  any  other  way.  They 
must  have  grown  under  about  the  same  conditions  we  see  now ;  and 
since  they  are  all  of  about  the  same  size,  they  must  all  have  been 
killed  about  the  same  time.  A  beaver -dam  that  kept  the  water 
steadily  up  over  their  roots  would  do  it,  and  I  think  has  done  it. 
There  were  traces  of  an  old  one  down  there  when  I  first  came 
into  this  country." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Dant,  I  should  so  like  to  see  a  beaver  at  work !  I 
would  a  good  deal  rather  do  that  than  shoot  another  deer,  if  I  had 
my  choice  this  very  minute,"  said  Harry. 

"  "We  won't  shoot  any  more  deer  this  trip,  Harry,"  replied  the 
trapper,  "  unless  one  tries  to  stamp  on  our  toes.  We've  come  for 
moose,  and  we'll  get  a  moose  if  we  can.  But  if  we  do,  I  am  not 
sure  but  you'll  be  sorry  for  it,  because  we  will  have  to  pack  the  best 
part  of  it  way  back  to  the  lake.  It's  against  my  principles  to  shoot 
to  waste.  This  country  is  just  as  good  to-day  for  game  and  fur  as 
it  was  when  I  first  came  into  it ;  and  if  not  the  first  man  in  here,  I 
was  the  first,  at  any  rate,  to  range  it  as  a  steady  thing.  I've  kept 
it  so  by  being  careful  never  to  disturb  the  game  more  than  I  could 
help,  and  never  killing  anything  except  for  actual  use. 

"  As  to  seeing  a  beaver  at  work,  I've  tried  to  do  it  myself  lots  of 
times,  and  have  never  succeeded,  so  I  don't  think  your  chance  for 
that  is  very  good.  Beaver  don't  cruise  about  much  during  the  day- 
time :  all  their  work  is  done  at  night.  They  will  do  three  times 
more  on  a  dark  and  rainy  night  than  they  will  when  the  moon  is 
bright.  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  they  felt  safer  when  it  was 
dark,  and  so  gave  all  their  time  to  work ;  but  that  when  they 
could  see  distant  objects  clearly,  they  fancied  that  they  could  be 
seen  as  well,  and  that  they  then  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  which 
would  have  been  given  to  work  listening  and  watching  for  the  ap- 
proach of  danger.  They  are  a  very  timid  animal.  It's  an  easy 
matter  to  tear  a  hole  in  one  of  their  dams  on  a  bright  moonlight 
night,  and  then  hide  to  see  what  will  happen.  I've  done  it  more 
than  once.     As  soon  as  the  water  begins  to  lower  above  the  dam 


164  CITY  BOYS  IN  THE  WOODS. 

they  know  something  is  wrong  there,  and  start  to  see  what  it  is  and 
to  mend  it.  But  the  very  fact  that  something  unusual  has  happened 
makes  them  mighty  suspicious,  and  they  discover  the  watcher,  and 
clear  out  before  they  have  done  the  first  thing  to  satisfy  his  curi- 
osity ;  at  least  that's  the  way  they  have  always  treated  me.  Though 
a  beaver's  eyesight  is  not  very  keen,  its  nose  and  ears  are.  and  I've 
never  been  able  to  get  near  enough  to  see  by  moonlight  what  was 
going  on  without  their  finding  me  out.  Though  I  cant  promise 
to  show  you  a  beaver  at  work,  and  probably  won't  show  you  a 
beaver  at  all,  we  can  spend  the  afternoon  going  over  their  works, 
if  you  like,  and  I'll  tell  you  what  I  know  about  them.  You'll  get 
a  pretty  good  idea  of  them  that  way." 

Xothing  more  agreeable  to  the  boys  could  have  been  suggested, 
and  they  were  soon  on  their  way  up  the  bog  stream  in  the  boat. 

"  Here  we  are  at  the  main  beaver  dam,"  said  the  trapper  at  last. 
"  Jump  out,  boys,  and  look  till  you  are  tired." 

The  bog  stream  was  here  perhaps  a  hundred  feet  wide.  A  low 
pile  of  brushwood  extended  straight  across  the  stream,  from  the 
western  bank  to  a  small  island  distant  some  twenty  feet  from  the 
eastern  bank.  The  channel  between  the  island  and  the  eastern 
bank  was  closed  by  another  pile  of  brushwood,  extending  down- 
stream at  quite  an  angle  with  the  direction  of  the  longer  pile. 

"  Is  this  thing  a  beaver  dam,  Mr.  Dant  V  exclaimed  Harry,  in  a 
tone  of  great  disappointment,  and  with  an  expression  of  no  little 
disgust. 

"  Yes,  that's  a  beaver  clam." 

"  But  it's  an  old  one  all  gone  to  pieces,"  suggested  Dick. 

"  No,  it's  brand-new — just  put  in  this  last  summer,"  replied  the 
trapper. 

"But  they  are  not  all  such  shabby  -  looking  things  as  this,  are 
they?"  asked  Harry. 

"  This  is  a  very  fair  average  specimen,"  answered  the  trapper. 
ik  I  don't  know  that  I  could  take  you  to  one,  and  I  know  of  a  good 
many,  that  would  give  you  a  fairer  idea  of  them.  I've  seen  bigger 
and  better,  but  they  are  not  common.  There  used  to  be  one  up  at 
the  head  of  this  stream,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  long  and  nearly  seven 


0 


HOW   BEAVER   DAMS   ARE   BUILT.  167 

feet  high  in  the  middle,  but  that  was,  by  all  odds,  the  biggest  and 
best  I've  ever  seen.  As  I  said  before,  this  is  a  fair  specimen.  If 
anything,  it's  rather  above  than  below  the  average." 

"Why,  it's  nothing  but  a  long,  narrow  heap  of  alder  -  bushes, 
piled  into  the  stream  sort  of  higgledy-piggledy,  the  butts  sticking 
up  in  the  air,  and  the  branch  ends  under  water.  The  biggest  of 
them  isn't  much,  if  any,  thicker  than  my  wrist,"  said  Harry. 

"  Yes,  that's  the  way  they  always  build  them  up  here.  In  coun- 
tries where  there  are  no  alders  they  very  likely  use  some  other  kind 
of  brush ;  but  here  alders  always  line  the  banks  of  our  streams,  and 
so  they  always  use  them,  I  suppose  because  no  other  brush  is  so 
handy.  You  see  this  dam  is  built  on  a  hard,  gravelly  bottom,  where 
the  water  isn't  over  four  inches  deep.  They  always  choose  a  hard 
bottom  and  shallow  water.  The  deepest  water  I  ever  knew  them 
to  build  a  dam  in  was  not  over  two  feet,  and  that  was  the  big  dam 
I  spoke  of  before.  We'll  look  at  the  place  where  it  was  by-and-by. 
Then,  too,  they  always  choose  a  shallow  place  close  below  a  deep 
pool,  if  they  can  find  it,  just  as  they  did  here. 

"  They  cut  the  alder-bushes  on  the  banks  in  the  neighborhood, 
drag  them  into  the  water,  and  tow  or  push  them  down  to  the  site 
of  the  dam.  There  they  place  them  so  that  the  branch  ends  point 
up-stream,  and  pack  mud  over  them  to  keep  them  down.  As  near 
as  I  can  see,  they  let  the  butt  ends  take  care  of  themselves  pretty 
much,  for  weighing  down  the  branch  ends  with  mud  would  make 
the  butt  ends  stick  up  in  the  air  more  or  less,  just  as  you  see  they 
do.  The  upper  side  is  always  a  solid,  water-tight,  sloping  bank  of 
mud,  grass,  and  small  stones,  as  it  is  here ;  while  the  down-stream 
face  of  the  dam  is  almost  always — always,  unless  the  dam  has  been 
used  and  kept  in  repair  for  a  great  many  years — just  such  a  rough- 
looking  pile  of  brushwood  as  you  see,  all  the  bushes  and  poles  ap- 
pearing as  though  they  had  been  pitched  in  almost  anyway." 

"  I  wouldn't  have  believed  it,"  said  Harry.  "  Why,  I  thought 
they  drove  stakes,  and  wove  branches  in  and  out  among  them  like 
basket-work,  until  they  had  run  two  fences  across  the  stream ;  and 
that  then  they  packed  grass  and  stuff  in  between  until  the  space 
was  full,  and  then  brought  mud  on  their  tails  and  plastered  over  the 


168  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

whole  thing  as  nice  and  smooth  as  a  mason  could  plaster  it  with  a 
crowel.  Why,  this  thing  does  not  raise  the  water  over  twenty 
inches,  or  two  feet  at  the  outside.  And  then  on  top  it's  nothing 
but  poles  and  butts  of  alders  sticking  up  in  every  direction,  so  that 
the  escaping  water  sifts  through  and  between  them  instead  of  run- 
ning over  the  dam.  A  farmers  boy  clearing  a  brush-patch,  would 
make  as  good-looking  a  dam  as  this  if  he  only  piled  the  bushes 
he  cut  down  long  and  narrow,  and  shovelled  a  little  dirt  up  on 
one  side." 

"  I  don't  know  where  you  city  people  get  your  ideas  of  beaver," 
replied  the  trapper,  "  but  if  from  books,  they  must  be  mighty  queer 
books.  I  never  knew  one  yet  to  look  at  a  beaver  dam  or  house  for 
the  first  time  without  surprise  and  disappointment.  As  for  driving 
stakes,  beavers  can't  any  more  do  it  than  they  can  fly.  They  don't 
carry  mud  and  stuff  on  their  tails.  They  couldn't  if  they  tried, 
because,  though  their  tails  are  shaped  a  good  deal  like  a  trowel,  still 
the  upper  surface  rounds  too  much.  They  are  too  short  and  thick 
in  the  body  to  load  themselves,  and  even  if  they  got  another  beaver 
to  load  them,  such  part  of  the  cargo  as  didn't  roll  off  would  be 
washed  away  before  they  had  gone  twenty  feet  through  the  water. 
They  always  travel  by  water  when  they  can,  and  all  the  mud  they 
get  is  from  the  bottom  or  right  at  the  bank.  As  for  plastering 
mud  with  their  tails,  I  won't  say  they  don't  do  it,  because  I  have 
never  seen  them  actually  at  work,  as  I  told  you  before ;  but  I  don't 
believe  they  do  it  all  the  same.  As  far  as  I  have  ever  been  able 
to  see,  the  principal  use  they  make  of  their  tails  is  as  a  prop.  A 
great  part  of  their  work  is  done  sitting  up,  using  their  fore-paws 
as  we  use  our  hands.  When  in  that  position  their  tails  are  spread 
flat  on  the  ground  and  help  to  support  them.  Some  think  they  use 
their  tails  as  a  rudder,  and  also  as  a  propeller,  just  as  a  man  sculls  a 
boat  with  an  oar.  But  if  they  do,  it's  only  when  they  are  swim- 
ming entirely  under  water,  for  I've  seen  them  swimming  on  the  sur- 
face often  enough,  and  then  they  always  carry  their  tails  straight 
out  behind,  not  using  them  at  all  except  perhaps  occasionally  to 
steer,  and  even  of  that  I'm  not  sure.  As  for  the  height  to  which 
their  dams  raise  the  water,  where  there  is  one  that  raises  the  water 


THE   BIG  BEAVER   DAM.  169 

over  two  feet,  there  are  fifty  that  raise  it  less  than  that.  The  big 
dam  I  spoke  of  raised  the  water  nearly,  if  not  quite,  seven  feet ;  but 
then  that  stands  alone  among  all  the  beaver  dams  I  ever  saw. 

"  Shall  we  be  moving  ?" 

"  Tell  us  first  something  more  about  the  big  dam  before  we  go ; 
that  is,  if  you  are  not  in  a  hurry,  Mr.  Dant." 

"  The  afternoon's  young  yet,"  replied  the  trapper,  "  so  we've 
plenty  of  time. 

"  The  stream  where  they  built  the  big  dam  was,  I  should  say, 
about  thirty  feet  wide  and  two  feet  deep.  The  banks  were  of  mud, 
quite  straight  up  and  down,  and  about  four  feet  high.  They  built  a 
dam  which  raised  the  water  to  the  level  of  the  top  of  the  bank. 
When  the  water  flowed  over  the  banks  it  of  course  escaped  round 
the  ends  of  the  dam  and  ran  back  into  the  stream.  They  then 
extended  their  dam  right  and  left  till  it  was  almost,  if  not  quite, 
quarter  of  a  mile  long.  I  ought  to  say  that  these  extensions  were 
nowhere  over  two  feet  high,  and  often  not  over  six  inches.  The 
only  place  where  it  raised  the  water  seven  feet  was  just  the  wTidth 
of  the  stream,  say  from  twenty-live  to  thirty  feet.  The  alder  poles, 
of  which  the  high  part  of  the  dam  was  mainly  built,  were  pretty 
well  limbed  off  and  laid  parallel  with  the  current,  the  butts  down- 
stream. These  butt  ends  were  laid  even  enough,  so  that  the  lower 
face  of  the  dam  was  pretty  perpendicular,  which  gave  the  dam  a 
more  finished  appearance  than  any  other  I  ever  saw.  Its  up-stream 
face  was  a  sloping  bank  of  mud,  grass,  and  small  stones,  just  like  this 
one,  only  bigger.  As  I  said  before,  it  was  by  long  odds  the  finest 
beaver  dam  I  ever  saw.  It  spoke  well  for  the  industry  and  am- 
bition of  the  colony  that  built  it,  but  it  didn't  strike  me  as  showing 
much  judgment;  for  a  dam  thirty  feet  long,  to  bar  the  original 
stream,  would  have  given  them  a  great  deal  better  pond  than  they 
are  usually  content  with." 

"Like  Harry,"  said  Dick,  "I  am  dreadfully  disappointed.  I 
didn't  exactly  look  to  see  a  dam  of  hewn  timber  and  masonry,  but  I 
did  expect  something  very  different  from  this.  Then  you  don't 
think  the  beaver  is  so  very  intelligent  an  animal,  Mr.  Dant  ?" 

"  I  hardly  know  how  to  answer  that  question.     Sometimes  I  do, 


170 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


and  sometimes  I  don't.  In  the  big  dam  I  think  it's  pretty  clear 
they  did  not  foresee  the  result  of  their  original  dam,  or  they  would 
have  been  more  moderate.  Then,  again,  I  remember  a  family  of 
eight  beavers  that  moved  in  on  a  stream  about  six  miles  from  nere. 
You  know  beavers  live  chiefly  on  the  bark  of  willow,  poplar,  and 
white  birch  trees ;  mainly  on  white  birch  in  this  country,  because 
it's  the  most  plenty.  They  don't  eat  the  paper-like  bark  of  the 
white  birch  that  I  use  to  light  fires  with,  but  the  inner  bark  that 


THE   STONE   DAM 


lies  between  that  and  the  wood.  Well,  there  was  white  birch  enough 
near  where  they  moved  in  to  have  supplied  them  for  ten  years. 
They  cut  every  stick  of  it  the  first  year,  nine-tenths  of  it  to  clear 
waste.  The  next  year  they  had  to  move  elsewhere  to  find  food; 
that  is,  what  I  left  of  them." 

"  Then  the  beaver  is  really  a  very  stupid  animal,"  said  Harry. 

"No.  I  think  that's  running  to  the  other  extreme.  You  re- 
member, Harry,  where  we  lunched  the  first  day  you  were  with  me, 
where  you  saw,  or  rather  didn't  see,  the  caribou?     Well,  on  that 


AT  THE   BEAVERS'  HOUSE.  171 

same  stream,  about  two  miles  below,  is  a  place  we  call  the  Stone 
Dam.  The  river  flows  for  some  distance  over  a  flat  sheet  of  rock, 
polished  by  the  freshets  of  centuries,  and  drops  perpendicularly 
about  three  feet  into  a  deep,  dark  pool  below.  It's  a  great  place  for 
big  trout,  is  that  pool.  At  the  average  height  of  the  stream  the 
water  flows  over  this  rock  in  a  sheet  about  three  inches  deep.  Now, 
no  dam  the  beavers  could  possibly  build  above  the  fall  could  begin 
to  make  a  pond  that  would  compare  in  depth  of  water  and  extent 
with  the  natural  pool  below  it ;  while  the  quantity  of  food-wood 
and  the  trouble  of  getting  it  would  be  the  same  in  either  case.  Yet 
eight  or  nine  years  ago,  a  family  of  beavers  put  in  a  dam  forty  feet 
long  and  two  feet  high  upon  this  smooth,  flat  rock,  about  thirty 
feet  above  the  edge  of  the  fall.  How  they  ever  made  it  stand 
where  a  man  could  hardly  keep  his  footing  is  almost  as  surprising 
as  their  stupidity  in  building  it  at  all ;  but  they  did.  The  fact  that 
it  curved  some  ten  feet  up-stream  partly  accounts  for  this,  but  not 
for  the  fact  that  they  succeeded  in  making  a  water-tight  joint  be- 
tween their  dam  and  the  polished  rock. 

"  Then,  again,  when  beavers  live  in  alder  swamps,  as  they  often 
do,  they  may  build  a  half-dozen  or  more  short  dams  from  knoll  to 
knoll  to  make  a  pond  of  satisfactory  size.  Though  these  knolls 
may  be  riddled  with  holes  left  by  the  decay  of  roots  and  other 
causes,  though  fallen  trees  and  snags  may  cut  the  line  of  their  dam 
at  almost  every  angle,  they  plug  the  holes  and  build  round  the  trees 
and  snags  till  all  leakage  is  stopped,  a  thing  no  man  could  do  with- 
out digging  an  extensive  foundation. 

"  But  come,  I  think  we'd  better  be  moving." 

After  pulling  the  boat  over  the  beaver  dam,  they  embarked  on 
the  placid  pool  above  and  proceeded  up-stream.  They  had  gone 
but  a  short  distance — not  over  thirty  yards — when  the  trapper 
headed  the  boat  to  the  bank  and  whispered  to  the  boys : 

"  There's  the  beaver  house.  Land  as  quietly  as  you  can,  put 
your  ear  down  close  to  the  top  of  it,  and  then  pound  on  it  with 
your  fist  and  listen." 

The  boys  did  so. 

"  Did  you  hear  anything  ?" 


172 


CITY   BOYS   IN  THE    WOODS. 


BEAVER    HOUSES. 


"  Yes,"  replied  Dick.  "  I  heard  something  moving  about  below 
us." 

"  That  was  the  beavers  clearing  out.  They  always  leave  home 
when  any  one  calls  on  them  as  you  did.  They  have  sense  enough, 
anyway,  to  have  more  than  one  place  of  safety  in  which  to  pass  the 
dav.     Besides  their  house,  they  have  a  number  of  different  holes 


HOW   BEAVER   HOUSES   ARE   BUILT.  173 

where  the  bank  is  steep  and  the  water  deep  close  to  it.  These 
holes  open  far  enough  below  the  surface  so  they  will  not  be  closed 
by  ice  in  winter.  They  ascend  gradually  for  from  ten  to  twenty 
feet  until  within  a  few  inches  of  the  surface  of  the  ground,  usually 
under  the  roots  of  some  tree.  There  they  have  a  living-room,  get- 
ting air  from  the  top  through  an  opening  protected  by  the  roots. 
Beavers  that  live  on  lakes  or  deep  ponds  or  streams  build  no 
dams,  and  sometimes  build  no  houses  above  ground,  but  live  in 
such  holes  in  the  bank  altogether.  Though  we  call  them  '  bank 
beavers,'  they  are  exactly  the  same  animals  as  the  dam  beavers. 
Here  you  see  they  show  some  sense  in  adapting  themselves  to  cir- 
cumstances." 

"I  don't  think  much  more  of  their  house  than  I  did  of  their 
dam,"  said  Harry,  as  he  gazed  upon  a  conical  pile  of  poles  about  ten 
feet  in  diameter  and  four  feet  high,  situated  between  the  trunks  of 
some  small  tamarack  trees.  These  poles  were  well  limbed  off,  from 
two  to  ten  feet  long,  the  thickest  about  two  inches  in  diameter.  If 
a  farmer  had  carelessly  made  a  pile  of  that  size  and  shape  of  his 
bean  poles,  it  would  not  have  looked  very  different. 

"  A  beaver  house  isn't  a  four-story  brown-stone  front,"  said  the 
trapper,  "  but  the  apple  that  looks  best  on  the  outside  isn't  always 
the  best  tasting.  If  we  tore  it  open  you  would  think  better  of  it. 
But  that  would  never  do,  for  then  they'd  all  clear  out  from  here  to 
no  one  could  tell  where.  I  have  about  thirty-five  to  forty  dollars 
on  deposit  there,  waiting  for  me  to  draw  it  out  when  the  ice  begins 
to  be  thick  and  fur  is  at  its  very  best.  If  we  should  disturb  the 
house,  we'd  break  the  bank.  But  I  can  tell  you  just  how  they  are 
built  and  arranged  inside,  if  you  like." 

"  I  should  like  it  very  much,"  said  Dick ;  "  And  I  too,"  added 
Harry. 

"  They  choose  a  place  above  their  dam  where  the  ground  is  but 
a  few  inches  higher  than  the  water-level,  and  where  the  bank  is 
steep,  so  that  the  doors  may  be  in  deep  water.  They  seem  to  have 
sense  enough  to  know  that  the  entrance  must  be  so  far  below  the 
surface  of  the  water  that  the  ice  will  never  freeze  down  to  it ;  for  if 
it  did  it  would  lock  them  up  in  their  houses  to  starve  to  death.     If 


174  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

they  can't  find  a  place  where  the  water  is  deep  enough  close  to  the 
bank,  they  will  dig  a  regular  ditch  on  the  bottom  in  which  the 
water  will  be  deep  enough.  At  the  bottom  of  the  bank  end  of  the 
ditch  will  be  the  entrance  to  the  house.  The  other  end  will  be  in 
deep  water.  The  place  having  been  decided  on,  they  arrange  to- 
gether a  number  of  poles  free  from  limbs,  so  that  the  butts  rest  on 
the  ground  in  a  circle,  while  the  small  ends  meet  in  the  middle  like 
an  Indian  wigwam.  The  way  they  take  advantage  of  the  crooks 
in  the  poles,  or  any  other  little  thing  of  the  kind,  to  make  the 
inner  ends  support  one  another  so  as  to  form  the  roof  of  their 
house  shows  more  mechanical  common -sense  than  a  good  many 
men  have.  They  pile  mud,  grass,  and  short  sticks  on  top  of  these 
poles  to  a  thickness  of  two  feet  or  more,  except  at  the  top.  A 
space  six  or  eight  inches  wide  is  left  there  for  an  air-hole,  which 
is  crossed  in  every  direction  by  sticks  and  poles,  but  without  any 
mud. 

"  Two  years  ago  I  opened  one  where  a  family  of  four  had  lived. 
The  living-room  was  four  and  a  half  feet  long,  three  feet  wide,  and 
eighteen  inches  high.  The  grass  beds  of  the  family  could  easily  be 
seen,  the  father's  at  one  end,  the  mothers  on  one  side,  the  two  chil- 
dren's opposite.  In  the  middle  was  the  dining-room,  its  floor  about 
three  or  four  inches  above  the  water.  Two  holes  led  from  it  into 
the  water,  one  steep  and  crooked,  and  one  straight  and  more  slop- 
ing so  that  they  could  bring  in  their  food -wood  conveniently. 
These  two  holes  opened  under  water  at  different  places  quite  a  lit- 
tle distance  apart. 

"  When  ice  begins  to  form  regularly  overnight  they  begin  to 
lay  in  their  winter  stock  of  food-wood.  They  fell  the  trees  ashore, 
cut  them  up  into  lengths  as  big  as  they  can  handle,  pull,  push,  and 
roll  them  into  the  water,  and  float  them  down  to  near  their  house, 
where  they  pile  them  up  in  deep  water.  Some  think  they  waterlog 
the  wood  in  some  mysterious  way  so  that  it  will  sink.  I'm  not  very 
fond  of  mysteries  where  any  other  reasonable  explanation  can  be 
found.  It  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  they  piled  the  pieces  on 
top  of  one  another  or  pushed  them  under,  until  the  weight  of  the 
pile  itself  was  enough  to  sink  it  to  the  bottom.     At  any  rate,  these 


BEAVERS'  PROVISION   EOR   WINTER. 


175 


wood-piles  always  stick  up  above  the  ice ;  and  as  that  part  as  well 
as  what  is  frozen  in  is  lost  to  them,  it  seems  to  me  that  this  apparent 
waste  of  labor  is  really  necessary,  and  has  for  its  object  to  sink  the 
rest  of  the  wood-pile  below  the  ice-level.  A  family  of  four  beavers 
will  put  in  a  store  of  food-wood  irregularly  circular  in  shape,  ten  to 
twelve  feet  in  diameter  and  four  or  five  feet  high.     The  sides  will 


IN    AN    OLD    MEAVER-WORKS. 


be  pretty  well  straight  up  and  down,  and  the  wood  will  be  packed 
together  close  enough  to  bear  a  man's  weight.  As  long  as  the 
weather  is  severe,  all  the  work  they  do  is  to  go  from  their  house  to 
the  wood-pile,  cut  off  a  piece,  bring  it  in,  eat  off  the  bark,  and  carry 
the  wood  part  out  again.  But  let  a  thaw  come,  and  they  will  bur- 
row to  the  surface  through  four  or  five  feet  of  snow,  and  work  as 


176  CITY   BOYS   IX  THE   WOODS. 

only  beavers  can  work  getting  in  fresh  food-wood  until  another  cold 
snap  comes. 

"  But  suppose  we  go  and  see  where  these  gentlemen  are  forag- 
ing now." 

Ascending  the  stream  still  farther,  they  turned  up  the  branch  on 
the  bank  of  which  the  trail  from  the  lake  ended,  and  landed  at  the 
place  from  which  the  boat  had  been  missing  at  their  arrival.  As 
they-  stood  on  the  bank  the  trapper  said : 

"  Xow  you'll  understand  what  carried  off  our  boat.  This  is  the 
beavers1  highway  to  and  from  their  food-ground.  You  see  the  boat 
is  too  long  to  swing  round  with  the  wind,  and  as  the  wind  is  doAvn 
the  bog  most  of  the  time,  it  generally  lay  right  across  the  stream, 
barring  it  from  side  to  side.  The  beavers,  passing  up  and  down 
with  their  wood,  found  the  way  completely  blocked  by  the  boat, 
tried  to  move  it,  found  it  was  tied,  landed,  cut  the  rope,  and  pushed 
it  out  of  the  way.  When  it  lodged  below  and  bothered  them  again, 
they  pushed  it  down  farther,  until  at  last  they  worked  it  out  into 
the  main  stream.  There  I  suppose  the  wind  and  current  took  it 
down  to  the  dam. 

"  You  look,  Harry,  as  if  you  thought  this  rather  a  tough  story 
to  swallow,  but  it's  true  all  the  same.  I  only  judge  that  the  beavers 
are  working  now  up  this  stream,  rather  than  some  of  the  other 
branches,  from  the  fact  that  the  boat  was  carried  away,  and  you'll 
see  that  we'll  find  it  so.  There,  look  at  those  marks  on  the  boat  : 
they  are  the  marks  of  beaver  teeth.  There's  no  mistaking  them 
when  you've  once  seen  them,  as  you  yourself  will  say  before  we 
come  back." 

"  That  doesn't  look  very  stupid  to  me,  Mr.  Dant,"  said  Dick.  "  To 
study  out  why  they  couldn't  move  the  boat,  to  find  that  it  was  held 
by  something  on  land  and  not  in  the  water,  and  then  to  go  ashore 
and  fasten  on  the  rope  as  the  cause  and  cut  that,  looks  to  me  a  good 
deal  like  reason.  A  man  couldn't  have  done  better,  except  he  might 
have  untied  the  rope  instead  of  cutting  it." 

"  That's  why  beavers  are  such  a  puzzle,"  replied  the  trapper. 
"  First,  they'll  do  the  stupidest  things,  like  building  that  big  dam ; 
or  working  themselves  nearly  to  death,  only  to  bring  famine  on 


WHO   STOLE   THE    BOAT? 


177 


them ;  or  put  in  a  dam  where  it  is  of  no  earthly  use.  Then  you'll 
think  they  haven't  any  more  sense  than  a  rabbit.  But  when  you 
stop  to  consider,  you'll  find  that  the  best  engineer  couldn't  have 
planned  the  dam  better,  or  even  as  well,  for  that  place,  or  you'll 
run  against  something  of  this  kind.  Then  you  begin  to  think  they 
have  as  much  sense  as  a  man.  If  they  could  only  be  watched  when 
at  work,  so  as  to  learn  the  way  they  go  at  it,  it  would  be  different ; 
but  the  trouble  about  that  is,  that  as  long  as  you  watch  they  won't 
work,  as  I  told  you  before. 

"  How  they  do  their  work — whether  one  plans  and  bosses  the 
job,  and  the  others  do  as  they  are  told,  or  whether  each  works  on 
his  own  hook  guided  by  instinct  alone — there  may  be  those  who 
know,  but  I've  never  seen  them,  and  I've  been  among  beaver-works 
and  beaver-trappers  a  good  many  years.  I've  seen  plenty  who'd 
talk  as  if  the  king  of  the  beavers  had  told  them  all  about  it,  but 
when  you've  got  right  down  to  the  foundation  it  would  all  turn  out 
to  be  nothing  but  guesswork. 

"  Now  let's  go  and  see  if  we  can  find  where  they  are  working." 


12 


CHAPTER   XII. 

Beavers'  Work.— Beavers'  Teeth.— How  Beavers  Fell  Trees.— Beaver  Canals.— The 
Personal  Appearance  of  the  Beaver. — Habits  of  the  Beaver. — A  Chance  Encoun- 
ter.—The  Trapper's  Fruit-tree.— Trapping  Beavers.— Setting  Beaver-traps.— The 
Front-leg  Set— The  Hind-leg  Set.— Midwinter  Trapping. 

'T^HE  trapper  led  the  way  up  along  the  stream,  crossed  where  he 
-*-  did  when  in  search  of  the  missing  boat,  and  then  kept  on  up 
the  other  bank. 

"  When  I  saw  you  go  over  after  the  boat  yesterday,"  said  Dick, 
"I  supposed  it  was  on  a  pile  of  drift-wood.  I  now  see  it's  another 
beaver  dam." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  trapper,  "  it's  an  old  dam  repaired  this  year 
to  back  up  the  water  above,  so  that  the  beavers  can  sluice  their 
wood  easier.  That's  the  way  they  do  it.  Sometimes  one  family 
will  build  half  a  dozen  dams,  one  above  the  others  on  a  small 
stream,  each  one  backing  the  water  up  to  the  foot  of  the  one  above 
it.  You  see  that  this  dam  is  built  just  like  the  other,  though  it  is 
so  much  shorter.     But  here  we  are.     I  thought  we  wouldn't  have 


BEAVERS'  WORK. 


179 


to  go  far.  What  do  you  think  of  this  tree  for  a  specimen  of 
beavers'  work  ?" 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  beavers  cut  down  this  tree,  Mr.  Dant  ?" 
said  Dick.  "  Why,  it's  fifteen  or  sixteen  inches  in  diameter,  and  it's 
a  hard-wood  tree,  too." 

"  Yes,  it's  a  white  birch  tree,  and  the  beavers  felled  it  just  as  you 
see  it.  Not  only  this,  but  here  are  the  chips  left  from  their  work. 
No  tree  is  too  big  for  them  to  fell  if  they  wish  to.  Let's  confine 
our  attention  now  to  this  stump.  You  see  it  is  cut  off  twenty 
inches  or  so  above  the  ground,  and  has  been  gnawed  in  a  wide 
groove  all  the  way  around  the  trunk  until  the  tree  has  fallen, 
leaving  that  part  which  had  not  been  cut  through  slivered  and 
broken.     Notice,  too,  that  the  cut  end  of  the  stump  has  the  shape 


CUT   SURFACE   OP   BIRCH   LOU. 


of  a  cone  nearly  as  high  as  the  tree  is  thick.  Now  look  at  the 
cut  surface.  You  see  it  is  scored  all  over  with  marks,  as  though 
it  had  been  cut  by  two  nearly  flat  gouges  about  a  quarter  of  an 
inch  wide  held  side  by  side.  ■  Those  are  the  marks  of  the  beavers' 
teeth,  and,  as  I  told  you,  once  seen  can  hardly  be  mistaken  for  any- 
thing else  afterwards.  You  see  that  some  of  these  marks  are  a  lit- 
tle narrower  than  others.  That  means  that  two  different  animals 
worked  on  the  tree.  By  looking  over  this  ground  for  half  an  hour 
or  so,  I  could  tell  just  how  many  beavers  make  up  this  family,  if  I 
didn't  already  know.     Now  you  can  examine  the  chips." 

Each  boy  picked  up  a  handful  from  the  quantities  which  lay 
around  the  stump,  and  after  studying  them  some  time,  Harry  said : 

"  Well,  I  declare  I  would  hardly  have  'believed  it  possible.     I 


180 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


supposed  beavers  gnawed  as  rats  gnaw,  and  that  their  chips  were 
coarse  sawdust  like  that  made  by  rats.  But  here's  a  chip  two 
inches  and  a  half  long,  an  inch  wide,  and  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick, 
and  there  are  any  quantity  more  which 
are  nearly,  if  not  quite,  as  large.  The 
smallest  are  at  least  an  inch  square  and 
an  eighth  of  an  inch  thick.  They  must 
have  uncommon  teeth  and  lots  of  muscle 
to  drive  them,  to  do  such  work  and  in 
such  hard  wood  too." 

"I  expected  one  of  you  would  say 
something  of  that  kind  about  beavers'  teeth," 
said  the  trapper,  "  because  everybody  does. 
A  couple  of  months  ago  I  found  the  skull  of 
a  beaver  I  had  trapped  the  year  before,  and 
brought  it  to  camp  for  a  gentleman  who 
wanted  to  take  it  home.  He  forgot  it  when 
he  left.  So  I  thought  it  might  be  a  good  idea 
to  slip  the  skull  in  my  pocket  when  we  started 
up  here,  so  that  }Tou  could  see  the  marks  of 
the  beavers'  teeth  and  the  teeth  that  made 
them  at  the  same  time.  It's  a  very  good 
skull  for  our  purpose,  because  it  has  been  ex- 
posed to  the  weather  until  the  cutting  teeth 
are  quite  loose,  so  that  they  can  be  pulled  out 
and  put  back  without  any  trouble.  See  how 
strong  and  thick  the  bones  of  the  jaws  are. 
"  The  teeth  of  a  beaver  are  built  on  what  I  call  strictly  scientific 
principles.  The  best  tools  of  the  best  tool-maker  require  the  grind- 
stone once  in  a  while  when  they  become  dull  from  use.  But  the 
more  a  beaver's  teeth  are  used  the  sharper  they  become.  You  see 
that  almost  all  of  the  tooth  is  made  up  of  comparatively  soft  bone, 
not  harder  than  a  deer's  horn.  But  the  outside  surface  of  the  tooth 
consists  of  a  scale  not  thicker  than  your  thumb  nail,  and  as  hard  as 
glass.  Of  course  the  softer  body  of  the  tooth  wears  with  use  much 
more  than  the  hard  enamel.    The  end  of  the  tooth,  therefore,  takes 


CHIP  CUT  BY  BEAVER 
(NATURAL  SIZE). 


BEAVERS'  TEETH. 


181 


BEAVER  S   SKULL. 


a  bevel  like  a  chisel,  with  a  thin,  slightly  projecting  cutting  edge 
as  sharp  as  any  carpenter's  tool  when  just  off  an  oil-stone." 

"Why,  these  beavers' 
teeth  are  not  very  sharp,  Mr. 
Dant,"  said  Dick. 

"  That's  because  the  edges 
were  broken  off  by  the  bea- 
ver on  the  trap  when  it  was 
caught.  They  always  do  that 
if  they  are  not  drowned  very 
soon  after  they  are  nipped. 
But  before  that  beaver  began 
on  the  cold  steel,  you  may 
rely  on  it  that  his  teeth  had 
a     really     first  -  class     edge. 

Then  notice,  too,  how  the    softer  tough   bone   slopes   up   to  the 
cutting  edge,  so  as  to  back  it  up  and  give  it  strength. 

"  Now,  you  see  that  about  an  inch  of  the  upper  cutting  teeth  is 
outside  the  skull.  Now  I'll  pull  them  out  of  their  sockets.  You 
see  that  each  tooth  makes  about  half  of  a  circle,  so  that  if  the  ends 
of  a  right  and  a  left  tooth  are  put  together,  a  complete  circle  like  a 
thin  ivory  napkin-ring  is  formed.  You  see,  too,  that  besides  the  inch 
outside  a  length  of  tooth  is  buried  in  the  socket 
in  the  upper  jaw,  which  around  the  curve  would 
measure  over  three  inches.  Now  I'll  put  them 
back,  and  pull  out  the  lower 
cutting  teeth.  You  notice 
that  they  project  a  little  more 
beyond  the  bone,  have  a  very 
much  flatter  curve,  and  are 
embedded  in  the  jaw  at  least 
five  inches.  There  is  another 
curious  thing  to  be  noticed 
about  these  teeth.  You  see 
the  root  is  hollow.  I've  been  told  the  roots  of  elephants'  tusks 
are  the  same,  and  that  all  teeth  made  that  way  keep  growing  all 


BEAVER   TEETH   (HALF-SIZE). 


182  CITY  BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

the  time.  At  any  rate,  beavers'  cutting  teeth  do.  A  beaver  that 
breaks  off  one  of  its  teeth,  and  does  not  at  the  same  time  break  off 
the  opposing  tooth,  is  in  a  bad  way.  The  opposing  tooth  is  no 
longer  worn  by  use,  but  keeps  getting  longer  and  longer,  until  after 
a  while,  if  the  broken  tooth  doesn't  hurry  up,  the  beaver  can't  shut 
his  mouth,  and  so  starves  to  death." 

"  With  such  teeth,  I  don't  see  but  beavers  have  to  work,  whether 
they  want  to  or  not,  so  as  to  keep  their  teeth  worn  down  to  the 
proper  length,"  said  Dick. 

"  Just  so,"  replied  the  trapper ;  "  at  least,  that's  the  way  I  ex- 
plain the  enormous  amount  of  apparently  useless  gnawing  they  do. 
The  trunk  of  the  tree  which  belonged  to  the  big  stump  we  have 
been  looking  at  is  an  example.  Here  it  lies  just  where  it  fell.  You 
see  they  have  eaten  the  bark  down  to  the  wood,  from  the  top  and 
sides,  where  it  could  be  got  at  conveniently,  but  have  left  it  under- 
neath. They  have  also  cut  and  carried  away  all  the  branches  of 
three  inches  or  less  in  diameter.  All  this  is  as  we  should  expect. 
But  you  notice  they  have  gnawed  into  the  tree  trunk  itself  in  a 
number  of  places,  sometimes  cutting  it  nearly  half  through.  Why 
they  have  done  this,  unless  to  wear  their  teeth,  beats  me.  They 
couldn't  carry  off  the  billets,  even  if  they  had  cut  them  off  entirely. 
But  if  we  look  a  little  farther  we  may  find  a  better  example — yes, 
here's  just  what  I  was  looking  for.  Cases  of  this  kind  will  be  found 
through  every  beaver-works." 

The  trapper  pointed  to  a  prostrate  tree  trunk  some  twenty  feet 
}ong,  about  eight  or  nine  inches  in  diameter  at  the  larger,  and  six 
inches  at  the  smaller  end.  It  had  been  cut  at  intervals  of  eight  or 
ten  inches,  almost  throughout  its  length.  In  some  places  it  had 
been  gnawed  half  through,  in  some  a  third,  while  at  others  nothing 
but  a  small  core  of  wood  not  over  an  inch  and  a  half  in  diameter 
held  the  parts  together;  but  at  no  place  had  the  separation  been 
completed.  The  whole  trunk  looked  almost  like  a  quantity  of  large 
oblong  beads  strung  upon  a  pole.  The  work  was  some  months 
old,  and  had  evidently  been  abandoned  from  choice  and  not  from 
necessity. 

"  When  beavers  fell  a  tree  so  that  it  falls  on  land,"  continued 


BEAVERS'  WORK. 


183 


the  trapper,  "  they  seldom  remove  any  part  of  it  over  three  inches 
in  diameter;  but  when  they  fell  a  tree  so  that  it  falls  into  the 
water,  they  will  float  pieces  as  large  as  six  inches  thick,  and  as 
long  as   they  can  handle,  down  to   their 
wood-pile." 

"  I've  read,"  said  Dick,  "  that  if  a  tree 
grows  near  enough  to  the  bank,  they  al- 
ways cut  it  so  that  it  falls  into  the  water ; 
and  that  they  showed  just  as  much  skill 
in  it  as  any  trained  lumberman  could." 

"  Yes,  I've  heard  that  before,"  replied 
the  trapper.  "  But  look  at  that  tree,  and 
that,  and  that.  Any  man  who  could  earn 
his  tea  and  beans  in  a  lumber-camp  could 
have  felled  any  one  of  those  trees  into  the 
water.  But  you  see  all  of  them  have  fallen 
on  the  bank,  where,  it  is  perfectly  safe  to 
say,  the  beavers  didn't  want  them.  Some 
people  are  mighty  queer  about  this  sort  of 
thing.  They  are  so  fond  of  wonders  that 
they  seem  blind  to  any  simple  explanation 
though  it  lies  directly  under  their  noses. 
They  see  only  the  few  chance  cases  that 
support  their  notions,  while  they  lose  sight 
of  the  hundreds  of  ordinary  cases  which 
would  teach  them  better." 

"  I  had  an  idea  that  beavers  worked 
only  close  around  their  houses  and  dams," 
said  Dick ;  "  but  this  must  be  over  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  at  least  from  their  house. 
How  is  this,  Mr.  Dant  ?" 

"  If  they  have  water  communication  they  will  range  up  and 
down  the  stream  for  quite  a  distance,  a  mile  or  more.  But  they 
don't  like  to  go  far  from  water.  They  are  a  timid,  defenceless  ani- 
mal, and  they  know  the  wTater  is  their  only  place  of  safety.  As 
far  as  my  experience  goes,  it  is  very  rare  for  them  to  go  back  in  the 


BIRCH    LOG    CUT    BY 


184  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

woods  as  much  as  ten  rods  from  the  bank,  and  then  only  for  some 
extra  choice  food-wood.  Of  course,  when  they  have  fed  out  a  coun- 
try or  are  frightened  out  of  it,  then  they  travel  considerable  dis- 
tances overland  to  other  waters.  Until  the  winter  fairly  sets  in  it's 
a  mighty  easy  thing  to  scare  them  so  as  to  set  them  off  on  their 
travels.  If  we  hauled  that  boat  over  their  dam  half  a  dozen  times 
a  day  for  a  week  or  two,  even  as  late  in  the  season  as  it  now  is, 
they'd  be  almost  sure  to  clear  out.  That's  why  I  never  let  you 
help  me  pull  it  over,  because  you  might  be  less  careful  not  to  in- 
jure the  dam." 

"  Is  there  anything  else  that  beavers  do  that  we  haven't  seen  '." 
asked  Harry. 

"  Yes,  there  is  one  more  thing,  as  wonderful  as  any,  in  my  judg- 
ment. Where  there  are  two  pieces  of  water  close  together  but 
without  natural  communication,  or  where  a  stream  makes  a  big 
loop  with  a  narrow  neck,  if  the  ground  is  level  they  will  sometimes 
dig  a  regular  canal  across.  These  canals  are  occasionally  as  much 
as  fifteen  or  twenty  rods  long,  three  feet  wide,  and  carry  as  much 
as  two  feet  of  water.  I  am  sorry  there  are  none  around  here  to 
show  you;  but  then  you  wouldn't  see  much — nothing  but  a  straight 
ditch  with  perpendicular  sides.  The  wonderful  thing  about  it  is  the 
tremendous  lot  of  work  required,  for  every  bit  of  the  stuff  they  dig 
out  has  to  be  carried  ashore  between  their  fore-paws  and  their 
chins." 

••  You  haven't  told  us  what  a  beaver  looks  like,"  said  Dick. 

"  That's  sort  of  queer,  too."  said  the  trapper.  "  I  knew  it  so 
well  myself  that  it  never  entered  my  head  that  you  might  not  have 
seen  one.  A  beaver  is  a  short,  chunky  sort  of  an  animal,  about  two 
feet  long  in  the  body,  or  a  little  more.  A  good  big  one  will  weigh 
sixty  pounds.  They  are  shaped  very  much  like  a  musk-rat.  only,  of 
course,  ever  so  much  larger.  The  hind-legs  are  strong,  with  large 
paws  webbed  to  the  toes,  like  a  duck's  foot.  The  front-paws  are 
very  small,  considering  the  size  of  the  animal,  and  are  so  set  on  the 
body  that  the  palms  of  the  hands  naturally  turn  towards  each 
other.  The  tail  is  the  most  curious  part.  A  big  one  is  a  foot  long, 
five  inches  wide,  an  inch  thick  where  it  joins  the  body,  about  half 


1.'. : 


FASHIONS   AND   PRICES. 


187 


an  inch  thick  in  the  middle,  and  perhaps  an  eighth  of  an  inch 
thick  around  the  edge.  It  is  shaped  like  a  round- ended  trowel, 
a  little  the  widest  across  the  middle.  It  is  coal  black,  and  cov- 
ered with  what  look  like  scales,  but  are  really  lumps  on  the  skin. 

"  You  know  the  color  of  its  fur 
well  enough,  I  suppose,  now  it's 
fashionable.  You  look  a  little  sur- 
prised to  hear  a  man  living  in  the 
backwoods  talk  about  what  is  fash- 
ionable ;  but  we  find  it  out  in  furs 
mighty  quick,  because  we  feel  it  in 
the  prices  we  get.  I  used  to  get 
five  dollars  apiece  for  mink -skins, 
before  seal  fur  came  in.  Now  I  get 
only  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  for  the 
best.  Beaver-skins  used  always  to 
be  sold  by  the  pound,  weighed  just 
as  they  were  stretched  and  dried. 
Now  they  are  sometimes  sold  by 
the  single  skin.  When  dried  they 
weigh  from  one  and  a  half  to  two 
pounds  each,  and  used  to  bring 
about  two  dollars  and  a  half  a 
pound.  Lately  we  have  been  get- 
ting from  four  dollars  and  a  half 
to  five  dollars  a  pound,  so  I  know 
they  are  fashionable." 

"  You  said  beavers  work  only 
at  night,  didn't  you,  Mr.  Dant  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  the  darker  and  rainier 
the  night  the  better  they  like  it. 

In  the  summer  and  early  fall  they  do  little  work  except  to  keep 
their  dams  in  repair.  Then  they  sleep  all  day,  and  cruise  the  water 
at  night,  living  from  hand  to  mouth.  Often  you'll  find  in  the  morn- 
ing on  some  sand-bar  a  hundred  or  more  little  willow  sticks  about 
the  size  of  a  lead-pencil,  all  freshly  peeled.     They  are  the  leavings 


BEAVER  S   TAIL. 


188  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE    WOODS. 

from  some  beaver's  supper.  But  when  the  cold  weather  comes, 
then  they  make  up  for  lost  time,  repairing  their  houses  and  putting 
in  their  winter  stock  of  food-wood.  If  you  kept  track  of  what  they 
were  doing  then,  you'd  think  there  was  a  good  deal  in  the  expres- 
sion '  to  work  like  a  beaver.'  But  even  then  the  work  is  all  done 
at  night.  I  never  saw  a  beaver,  that  wasn't  in  a  trap,  ashore  in  the 
daytime  but  once.  It  was  in  November  a  year  ago.  I  was  at  a 
pond  over  the  boundary  about  two  miles  from  here ;  quite  a  good- 
sized  pond — between  a  quarter  and  half  a  mile  long.  The  beavers 
had  put  a  dam  across  the  outlet  that  raised  the  water  two  feet  in 
the  pond,  and  flowed  it  back  up  the  inlet  three-quarters  of  a  mile. 
I  was  looking  over  things  to  see  where  to  put  my  traps,  when  I 
heard  something  moving  up  in  the  woods.  When  I  hear  anything 
moving  in  the  woods  I  want  to  know  what  it  is.  So  I  sneaked  up 
as  quietly  as  I  could,  and  there  I  saw  a  beaver  about  forty  yards 
from  the  water.  I  should  hardly  have  been  more  astonished  if  I 
had  seen  my  great-grandfather's  ghost.  It  found  me  out  as  quick 
as  I  found  it,  and  rose  up  on  its  hind-legs,  like  a  squirrel,  to  look  at 
me.  One  look  was  enough  to  satisfy  the  little  curiosity  it  had.  It 
dropped  on  all  fours  and  began  to  shamble  for  the  water  the  best  it 
knew.  I  wouldn't  have  believed  that  an  animal  half  as  broad  as  it 
was  long,  and  with  such  little  bits  of  fore-legs,  could  get  over  the 
ground  so.  I  had  the  longest  legs,  but  it  had  the  most  of  'em,  and 
it  used  them,  too,  with  industry.  A  ten-dollar  prize  for  a  forty-yard 
run  is  worth  trying  for,  and  the  way  I  climbed  through  the  wind- 
falls was  bad  for  clothes.  As  usual  when  trapping,  I  had  nothing 
but  my  axe  with  me,  so  I  had  to  get  within  arm's-length  or  lose  it. 
It  gave  me  all  I  wanted  to  do,  but  I  came  up  with  it,  at  last,  before 
it  could  reach  the  water.  When  it  saw  that  it  was  no  use,  it  didn't 
show  fight  at  all,  but  just  stopped  and  hunched  itself  together  wait- 
ing for  what  was  to  come.  I  really  pitied  it  after  I  had  knocked  it 
on  the  head,  though  it  was  a  much  less  cruel  death  than  they  gener- 
ally die." 

"  How  do  you  trap  beavers,  Mr.  Dant  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"  I  don't  like  to  take  a  beaver  now,  because  the  fur  isn't  quite 
prime  yet.     It  would  look  well  enough  to  you,  perhaps,  but  the 


THE   TRAPPER'S   FRUIT-TREE.  1S9 

minute  the  dealer  saw  that  the  inside  of  the  dried  skin  was  bluish 
instead  of  white,  he'd  know  that  that  fur  was  taken  too  early,  and 
cut  the  price  down.  Still,  I  can  show  you  how  it  is  done  all  the 
same. 

"  Would  you  rather  wait  here,  or  come  with  me  to  see  one  of 
my  fruit-trees  ?  I  have  quite  a  lot  of  them  scattered  through  these 
woods." 

The  boys  preferred  to  go  with  him.  He  led  them  back  the  way 
they  came,  and  then  off  a  short  distance  into  the  woods.  There 
stood  a  small  tree,  upon  which  hung  some  fifty  or  more  steel  traps 
of  all  sizes. 

"  Though  the  chance  of  any  one  getting  in  here  from  the  Cana- 
dian settlements  is  very  slim,  still  it's  possible.  Now,  though  many 
of  the  French  Canadians — '  Pea-soupers '  we  call  them — are  all  right, 
still  some  of  them  are  not  such  persons  as  I  care  to  expose  to  much 
temptation.  So  I  don't  keep  my  traps  in  camp,  where  they  would 
find  them  if  they  did  chance 
in  here,  but  hidden  in  this 
way.  This  is  the  kind  of 
a  trap  we  use  for  beavers. 
Now  let's  go  back." 

So  saying,  the  trapper  se-  beaver  trap. 

lected  a  trap  provided  with 

two  powerful  springs,  the  jaws  of  which  were  seven  or  eight  inches 
long.  Three  feet  of  stout  chain,  ending  in  a  two-inch  iron  ring, 
was  secured  to  one  of  the  springs.     As  they  returned,  he  said : 

"  All  trapping  rests  on  two  great  principles — like  all  principles, 
simple  in  themselves,  but  not  always  so  easy  to  apply.  If  you  are 
walking  in  a  city  street  and  find  a  load  of  coal  or  wood  dumped 
on  the  sidewalk  in  your  way,  you  get  by  it  in  the  easiest  manner, 
as  a  matter  of  course.  If  you  go  over  it,  you  do  it  where  it  is 
lowest  and  narrowest,  not  where  it  is  highest  and  widest.  If  it 
is  high  and  wide  everywhere,  you  go  around,  but  keep  close  to  it, 
so  as  not  to  go  more  out  of  your  Avay  than  is  necessary.  It's  just 
so  with  all  animals.  When  they  are  out  on  their  rambles,  unless 
turned  aside  by  some  special  object,  such  as  suspicion  or  a  chance 


190  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

for  food,  they  select  the  easiest  travelling.  This  is  the  first  great 
principle. 

"  The  second  great  principle  is  this :  All  timid  wild  animals  pre- 
fer a  known  way  to  one  they  have  not  tried.  Scare  a  deer,  for  in- 
stance, on  the  bog,  or  on  the  bank  of  the  stream,  so  that  it  has  to 
cross  the  bog  to  gain  cover.  It  will  take  the  track  it  came  in  by 
every  time,  if  it  isn't  cut  off  from  it,  though  it  may  be  twice  as  far 
to  the  woods  that  way  as  it  would  be  in  a  straight  line.  It's  just  so 
with  a  beaver.  The  first  time  one  of  them  comes  up  this  stream 
hunting  for  food-wood,  it  will  land  with  the  greatest  caution.  If 
it  gets  back  all  right,  ever}^  beaver  that  comes  up  afterwards  to  for- 
age there  will  land  in  the  same  place  and  no  other.  They  know 
the  water  is  their  place  of  safety,  and  the  land  their  place  of  dan- 
ger. They  will  go  on  to  that  place  of  danger  only  by  the  path  they 
have  proved  to  be  safe.  They  will  return  to  the  water  almost  any- 
where where  it  is  convenient,  because  that  is  going  from  a  place  of 
danger  to  one  of  safety.  But  landing  will  always  be  done  in  that 
one  place  as  long  as  they  are  feeding  in  that  vicinity. 

"  Now  let  us  walk  up  the  stream  while  you  watch  the  banks, 
and  try  if  you  can  see  such  a  place." 

They  had  gone  but  a  short  distance  before  Harry  called  out, 
"  There  it  is,  right  over  there !"  and  Dick  said,  "  Yes,  and  there's 
another !" 

"  Both  wrong,"  replied  the  trapper.  "  Don't  you  see  that  the 
grass  and  twigs  point  towards  the  water  ?  They  point  in  the  direc- 
tion of  travel.  Those  places  are  where  they  returned  to  the  water. 
But  you've  learned  your  lesson.  The  landing-place  is  below,  so  turn 
back  and  I'll  show  it  to  you." 

They  found  it  a  short  distance  down-stream — a  well-worn  path, 
almost  a  foot  wide,  leading  directly  up  over  the  bank  from  the 
water. 

"  That's  the  place  to  set  a  trap,"  said  the  trapper.  "  You'll  no- 
tice that  those  landing-places  are  always  pretty  near  deep  water. 
Here  there  is  a  little  shelf  of  mud,  and  then  it  suddenly  breaks 
off  deep.  In  other  places  the  slope  will  be  more  gradual,  but 
deep  water  is  always  close  by.      Upon  whether  the  deep  water 


HOW  BEAVERS  ARE  TRAPPED.  191 

is  nearer  or  farther  off  depends  whether  we  set  for  a  fore  or  a 
hind  leg." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say,  Mr.  Dant,  that  you  decide  beforehand 
which  leg  you  will  take  them  by  ?" 

"  Yes ;  that's  just  what  I  do  mean  to  say.  We  not  only  decide 
whether  it's  to  be  a  fore-leg  or  a  hind-leg,  but  also  upon  which  side 
the  fore  or  hind  leg  is  to  be.  It  doesn't  do  to  make  any  mistake 
about  that.  If  the  shallow  water  is  narrow  and  the  deep  water 
very  near,  then  the  trap  should  be  set  for  a  fore-leg.  If  the  slope 
of  the  bottom  is  more  gradual,  then  it  must  be  a  hind-leg  set.  The 
hind-leg  set  has  the  disadvantage  that  after  the  beaver  finds  out 
that  it's  caught  it  takes  to  the  bank,  and  may  be  found  and  eaten 
by  wild  animals,  so  that  the  skin  is  spoiled.  But  it  has  the  advan- 
tage that  an  animal  so  taken  seldom  '  foots ;'  while  the  fore-leg  set 
has  the  advantage  that  if  everything  works  all  right,  the  animal  is 
promptly  drowned  and  is  safe  under  water,  but  if  things  go  wrong 
the  animal  is  very  apt  to  foot." 

"  By  '  foot '  I  suppose  you  mean  they  bite  off  the  foot  by  which 
they  are  caught  above  the  trap,"  said  Dick.    "  I've  heard  of  that." 

"  I've  heard  of  it  too,"  replied  the  trapper,  "  but  I  have  never 
seen  it,  and  what's  more,  I  don't  believe  in  it.  Carnivorous  animals, 
such  as  the  bear,  lynx,  otter,  fisher,  and  sable,  will  sometimes  gnaw  off 
that  portion  of  the  foot  which  is  below  the  jaws  of  the  trap,  where 
the  pressure  has  killed  all  sensation,  and  then  wrench  out  the  stump 
and  escape ;  but  I've  yet  to  see  a  case  where  they  bit  off  the  leg 
above  the  jaws  of  the  trap,  where  the  leg  was  still  alive.  Vegeta- 
ble-feeding animals,  like  the  beaver  and  musk-rat,  wrench  and  twist 
on  the  trap  until  they  first  break  the  bone,  and  then  actually  pull 
the  leg  out  by  the  roots,  leaving  strings  of  sinew  and  small  muscle 
hanging  above  the  jaws  of  the  trap ;  in  the  case  of  the  beaver,  as 
much  as  six  inches  long.  I  don't  know  how  it  is  with  other  trap- 
pers, but  besides  the  loss  of  the  fur,  I  always  feel  ashamed  of  myself 
when  an  animal  foots  in  one  of  my  traps,  for  I  ought  to  have  so  set 
it  that  they  couldn't  get  a  solid  pull  on  it.  Still,  sometimes  in  their 
struggles  they  will  hook  the  trap  on  to  something  that  fastens  it  up 
solid,  and  then,  particularly  if  it  happens  soon  after  they  are  caught, 


192  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE    WOODS. 

they  are  likely  to  foot.  Trapping  is  an  awful  cruel  business,  there 
is  no  denying  that,  but  I  doubt  if  footing  hurts  them  so  very  much  ; 
for  if  it  hurt  them  anything  like  what  it  would  hurt  us,  they  couldn't 
stand  it  to  pull  and  wrench  on  a  broken  leg  the  way  they  must  do 
to  pull  it  out  by  the  roots.  I  think  the  squeeze  of  the  trap  numbs 
them." 

"  Will  you  show  us  how  you  set  the  trap  now,  Mr.  Dant  ?"  asked 
Harry. 

"  No.  Not  now.  I  would  have  to  get  into  the  water  to  do  it, 
and  that  is  hardly  worth  while  when  I  can  show  you  just  as  well 
when  we  are  in  the  boat.''' 

On  arriving  at  the  smaller  beaver  dam  Dick  said,  "  Why,  isn't 
that  a  beaver  path  over  this  dam,  Mr.  Dant  ?" 

"Yes.  You'll  always  see  that  on  every  live  beaver  dam.  We 
call  a  '  live  beaver  dam '  one  that  is  actually  in  use  by  beavers,  to 
distinguish  it  from  one  that  has  been  abandoned.  On  the  principle 
I  told  you  before,  they  always  cross  their  dams  at  the  same  place." 

"  Then  that  must  be  a  first-rate  place  to  put  a  trap,"  said  Harry. 

"  It's  a  first-rate  place  for  a  man  who  doesn't  know  his  business, 
but  one  of  the  last  places  a  trapper  would  select.  Whether  it  goes 
to  prove  that  all  beaver-work  is  done  under  the  direction  of  one 
boss  beaver  or  not,  I  won't  say.  But  this  is  a  sure  thing :  Unless 
the  winter  is  so  far  advanced  that  the  beavers  are  tied  down  to 
their  homes  and  pile  of  food- wood,  if  the  first  one  trapped  out  of  a 
family  is  not  the  head  of  the  family,  the  rest  of  them  will  clear  out 
under  his  leadership.  If  a  trap  is  to  be  put  in  at  such  a  place  on  a 
beaver  dam  as  this,  it  is  set  on  the  upper  side,  so  that  the  beaver 
may  have  a  good  chance  to  swing  off  into  deep  water  and  drown 
itself.  If  it  does  happen  to  take  the  boss  first,  it's  all  right  and 
there  is  a  chance  for  another  one ;  but  if  it  doesn't  get  that  one, 
as  is  most  likely,  then  that's  the  end  of  trapping  in  that  beaver- 
works." 

''I  don't  see  but  what  that  objection  would  apply  to  setting 
traps  at  the  entrances  to  their  houses,"  said  Dick. 

"  You're  quite  right,  it  does.  That's  another  bungler's  trick. 
They  drive  rows  of  stakes  at  the  entrances  to  the  houses  so  that  the 


\: 


HOW  BEAVERS  ARE  TRAPPED.  195 

beavers  can  get  in  only  between  the  stakes.  Then  they  put  a  trap 
at  each  entrance.  But  that's  only  stupid,  and  he  who  traps  that 
way  gets  paid  for  it.  Some  fellows — butchers,  I  call  them — get  a  lot 
of  stakes,  stake  all  the  holes  they  can  find,  so  as  to  shut  the  beavers 
in,  and  then  break  open  their  houses  and  kill  them.  That  of  course 
wipes  that  family  out  altogether,  leaving  not  one  to  keep  up  the 
stock.     A  good  trapper  tries  to  spare  all  except  the  full-grown." 

"  If  you  don't  set  traps  at  the  dam  or  at  their  houses,  where  you 
know  they  are,"  said  Harry,  "  I  don't  see  how  you  can  tell  where  to 
set  them ;  for  from  what  you  said  before  I  suppose  you  don't  use 
bait." 

"  I  manage  it  this  way :  You  see,  a  beaver  is  in  one  way  an 
unfortunate  animal.  Like  a  country  constable,  it  can't  live  without 
sticking  up  notices  that  it  is  around,  nor  without  at  the  same  time 
describing  itself  in  the  notices.  I  mean  that  they  have  to  cut  to 
live,  and  that  where  fresh  cuttings  are  found,  the  beavers  that  made 
them  must  be  near.  Then  the  teeth-marks  of  no  two  beavers  in  a 
family  are  exactly  alike.  The  differences  may  be  small,  so  small 
that  perhaps  you  couldn't  see  them  even  if  I  pointed  them  out.  But 
we  woodsmen  notice  little  things.  It's  as  much  a  habit  with  us  as 
smoking  is  with  some  people.  Almost  without  thinking,  and  as  a 
matter  of  course,  whenever  we  are  in  the  woods  our  eyes  are  open 
to  the  signs  of  forest  life.  We  could  hardly  pass  them  by  without 
notice  if  we  tried.  So  before  the  trapping  season  opens  I  have 
located  every  family  of  beavers  in  what  I  call  my  country,  and 
know  just  how  many  animals  make  up  each  family. 

"  In  Xovember,  when  beaver-trapping  time  comes,  and  I  propose 
to  make  the  acquaintance  of  a  beaver  family,  I  first  find  out  where 
they  are  working  at  that  time.  I  then  examine  their  teeth-marks 
with  care.  As  I  said  before,  the  boss  beaver  must  be  the  first  to  be 
taken,  or  the  family  will  leave.  My  first  object  is  to  locate  him. 
Being  larger  and  stronger  than  the  others,  he  is  generally  more 
enterprising  and  ranges  farther  from  home.  I  find  where  he  is  in 
the  habit  of  working  at  last,  perhaps  half  a  mile  or  more  from 
the  house.  Not  a  trap  do  I  set  until  that  is  done.  Probably  I 
have  found  out  at  the  same  time  where  he  leaves  the  water  for 


196  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

the  bank.  If  not,  that  takes  but  a  little  while  when  I  know  where 
he  is  working." 

While  the  trapper  had  been  talking  they  had  regained  the  boat, 
and  had  run  down  the  stream  to  the  camp  boat  -  landing.  Here 
he  landed,  told  the  boys  to  remain  in  the  boat,  was  gone  a  few 
moments,  and  returned  with  a  dry  peeled  spruce  pole  about  two 
inches  thick  and  eight  feet  long,  his  axe,  two  stakes,  and  a  flat  stone. 
Both  of  these  stakes  had  been  cut  from  a  bush  just  below  where  a 
stout  branch  grew.  About  four  inches  of  this  branch  had  been  left 
on  the  stakes,  which  were  otherwise  trimmed  clean.  Both  stakes 
were  so  made  that  when  driven  into  the  ground  this  short  branch 
would  project  outward  and  downward  from  the  top  of  the  stake, 
just  as  the  barb  projects  from  a  fish-hook.  Taking  his  place  in  the 
boat,  the  trapper  continued  his  explanation. 

"  We  call  this  pole  a  tally-pole.  You  see  its  big  end  is  split.  If 
I  slip  the  ring  of  the  trap-chain  over  the  split  end  of  the  pole  and 
drive  in  a  wedge,  the  trap-chain  and  trap  will  be  secured  to  the  pole. 
That's  the  first  thing  to  do  before  setting  a  beaver-trap.  The  tally- 
pole  must  be  of  dry  wood ;  if  green  the  beaver  would  cut  it  off  and 
walk  away  with  the  trap,  if  the  pole  was  three  times  as  thick  as  this 
one.  Dry  wood  they  won't  touch  for  some  reason.  Here  is  a  good 
place  for  a  front-leg  set.  You  see  there  is  a  narrow  shelf  of  shallow 
water  with  deep  water  close  to  it,  just  as  there  was  where  we  saw 
the  beaver  path  above.  We  will  take  this  musk-rat  path  for  the 
beaver  path,  and  play  that  a  boss  beaver  worth  a  good  ten-dollar 
bill  is  in  the  habit  of  leaving  the  water  here  for  his  nightly  ramble 
ashore.  Such  being  the  case,  we'll  stop  here  and  make  a  surprise- 
party  for  him.  I  first  tie  the  trap  to  this  flat  stone,  choosing  one 
for  the  purpose  heavy  enough,  so  that  if  a  beaver  once  goes  below 
the  surface  of  the  water  with  the  trap  and  stone  hitched  to  him,  he's 
going  to  stay  there.  I  next  fasten  the  trap  to  the  tally-pole.  I  then 
dig  a  hole  with  my  hands  in  the  bottom  under  water  deep  enough 
to  take  in  the  stone,  so  that  when  set  the  trap  will  lie  about  four 
inches  below  the  surface  of  the  water  and  level  with  the  bottom. 
This  water  is  not  what  you  would  call  really  warm  and  comfortable ; 
but  when  the  ice  begins  to  make  over  the  still  places  in  November, 


HOW  BEAVERS  ARE  TRAPPED. 


197 


it  sometimes  makes  my  hands  pain  like  the  toothache  when  setting 
traps.     I  have  to  do  it,  though,  just  as  if  I  liked  it. 

"  You  see  I  haven't  set  the  trap  opposite  the  middle  of  the  path, 
but  off  to  one  side.  The  beaver  is  a  wide  animal,  and  if  the  trap 
was  put  opposite  the  middle  of  the  path,  if  sprung  at  all,  it  would 
be  by  the  beaver's  body.  Then  as  the  jaws  closed  they  would  only 
throw  the  beaver  up  in  the  air,  and,  beyond  pinching  it  some  and 
scaring  it  almost  to  death,  do  no  good.  The  side  of  the  path  chosen 
decides  whether  the  beaver  will  be  taken  by  the  right  or  left  leg. 
The  depth  of  water  over  the  trap  determines  whether  it  is  to  be  a 
hind  or  fore  leg.  For  the  same  reason  that  we  don't  set  the  trap 
opposite  the  middle  of  the 
path,  we  set  the  jaws  so  that 
they  lie  lengthwise  of  the 
beaver's  body  when  it  is 
over  the  trap,  and  not  cross- 
wise. We  then  set  the  trap, 
sink  it  into  place  on  the  bot- 
tom, move  the  tally-pole  in 
parallel  with  the  bank,  and 
hold  it  there  under  water  on 
the  bottom  by  pushing  down 
the  stakes  so  that  the  pro- 
jecting branches   will  hook 

over  it.  The  idea  is  only  to  keep  the  tally-pole  sunk  until  a  beaver 
pulls  on  it ;  then  it  should  come  loose  and  follow  the  trap.  Now 
comes  in  the  second  great  principle — that  animals  always  take  the 
easiest  road.  I  pick  from  the  bottom  a  couple  of  old  waterlogged 
sticks,  just  such  as  a  beaver  meets  under  water  all  the  time,  and 
consequently  will  see  without  suspicion.  These  I  stick  into  the 
bottom  between  the  trap  and  where  the  path  leaves  the  water,  so 
that  they  stand  upright  with  the  tops  a  little  under  water,  one 
opposite  each  side  of  the  path.  To  land  where  it  wants  to  land,  a 
beaver  must  either  pass  between  these  sticks — that  is,  move  in  the 
most  favorable  way  for  the  trap  to  nip  it — or  it  must  squirm  around 
them.     It  is  bound  to  land  at  its  usual  place.     My  way  is  conven- 


(ilitiUND-PLAN    OF   V.EAVKR-TRAP. 


A,  tally-pole; 


i,  trap ;  C,  stone  ;   D,  beaver  path  ; 
E,  guiding  sticks. 


198  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

ient  and  open ;  any  other  way  is  obstructed  and  difficult.  It 
takes  the  easiest  way  —  my  way,  and,  as  is  often  the  case  when 
pleasure  and  convenience  only  are  considered,  it  soon  wishes  it 
hadn't. 

"  The  whole  thing  works  in  this  way :  Along  comes  the  beaver, 
swimming  with  its  fore-legs  doubled  back  against  its  body,  for  a 
ramble  on  shore.  It  approaches  its  usual  landing-place ;  the  sticks 
guide  it  over  the  trap,  its  breast  touches  the  bank ;  down  goes  its 
leg  right  into  the  trap,  which  closes  on  it  like  a  flash.  The  beaver 
seeks  safety  where  it  has  always  found  it  before — in  deep  water,  tak- 
ing trap,  stone,  and  tally-pole  with  it.  There  the  stone  sinks  and 
anchors  it,  while  the  free  end  of  the  tally-pole,  floating  above,  buoys 
the  place  where  rest  its  mortal  remains." 

The  trapper  then  proceeded  to  show  the  boys  how  to  set  a  trap 
to  take  a  beaver  by  the  hind-leg.  In  this  case  no  stone  was  used. 
The  trap  was  placed  on  the  bottom  under  about  fourteen  inches  of 
water.  The  free  end  of  the  tally-pole  was  made  fast  by  a  thong 
to  a  stake  driven  well  into  the  bottom,  so  that  the  top  of  the 
stake  and  the  fastening  were  below  the  surface.  The  up-stream 
end  of  the  tally-pole,  to  which  the  trap -chain  was  fastened,  was 
kept  below  the  surface  as  before.  Otherwise  the  arrangements 
were  the  same. 

"  When  a  beaver  is  taken  by  this  set,"  said  the  trapper,  "  its  first 
jump  clears  the  trap  end  of  the  tally-pole.  After  that  it  can  swing 
around  the  tied  end  of  the  tally-pole  as  it  chooses.  The  chain  end 
being  up-stream  and  the  fastened  end  down-stream,  the  current  and 
its  own  efforts  swing  the  beaver  out  into  deep  water.  There  the 
trap  may  be  heavy  enough  to  drown  it.  This  is  always  the  case 
if  the  alders  grow  so  thick  on  the  bank  that  the  beaver  can't  get 
ashore,  hampered  as  it  is  with  the  trap  and  tally-pole ;  but  if  it  is 
not  drowned  it  goes  ashore  after  a  while.  Often  they  will  mow 
down  every  bush  which  the  length  of  the  tally-pole  and  chain  will 
let  them  reach.  Almost  always  they  will  try  their  teeth  on  the 
trap,  in  which  the  trap  comes  off  first  best.  There  we  find  them 
on  the  bank.  They  don't  show  any  fight,  only  hunch  themselves 
together  and  keep  very  still,  as  if  they  hoped  to  escape  unseen. 


BEAVER-TRAPPING   IN   WINTER.  199 

Then  we  give  them  a  whack  on  the  head  with  a  club  enough  to 
stun  them — not  very  hard,  or  the  blood  will  settle  under  the  skin 
where  they  are  struck  and  damage  it.  Then  we  take  off  the  trap, 
and  stand  on  their  body  with  both  feet  if  the  ground  will  permit 
it.  The  blow  with  the  club  stuns  them,  and  with  the  weight  of  a 
man  on  their  heart  and  lungs  they  can't  get  breath  to  come  to 
again,  so  they  are  dead  in  a  few  minutes." 

"  Then,  when  the  streams  and  ponds  are  frozen  solid  you  have  to 
stop  trapping  beavers  ?"  said  Dick. 

k'  Oh  no,"  replied  the  trapper ;  "  but  we  follow  a  different  plan 
then.  I  of  course  have  kept  track  of  what  they  have  been  doing, 
and  know  where  their  house  and  food-wood  pile  is.  I  go  off  in  the 
woods  and  cut  just  the  very  nicest  piece  of  white  birch  or  poplar  I 
can  find.  It  must  be  long  enough  so  one  end  will  reach  the  bottom 
of  the  pool  in  which  their  wood-pile  is,  while  the  other  end  is  well 
above  the  ice.  I  choose  a  piece  as  thick  as  I  can  well  lug,  when  of 
the  length  required.  I  also  get  an  armful  of  fir-boughs.  Then  I  cut 
a  hole  through  the  ice  near  their  wood-pile,  and  stand  my  stick  of 
bait-wood  upright  in  it  so  that  one  end  is  embedded  in  the  bottom, 
while  the  other  end  is  up  above  the  ice.  I  next  set  my  trap  and 
lower  it  through  the  water  by  the  tally-pole,  until  it  rests  on  the 
bottom  about  eighteen  inches  from  my  bait-stick.  I  then  cover  the 
hole  with  fir-boughs  to  exclude  snow  and  wind,  so  that  the  ice, 
which  almost  immediately  begins  to  form,  will  freeze  perfectly  clear. 
In  a  short  time  both  bait-stick  and  tally -pole  are  firmly  frozen  in. 
Lastly,  I  heap  snow  over  the  fir-boughs  until  it  is  as  dark  over  the 
hole  as  it  is  anywhere  else. 

"  The  arrangement  works  this  way :  A  beaver  comes  to  the 
wood-pile  for  food.  They  soon  notice  my  fresh  piece.  Their  wood 
is  waterlogged  and  sour.  My  fresh  piece,  compared  to  it,  is  as  beef- 
steak to  salt  pork.  The  beaver  rises  on  his  hind-legs  to  cut  it  off 
as  high  up  as  he  can  reach,  and  while  so  doing  works  in  a  circle 
round  the  stick.  It  is  sure  to  step  on  the  trap  sooner  or  later,  gen- 
erally sooner,  which  closes  on  it  at  once.  As  the  trap  holds  the 
beaver,  the  chain  holds  the  trap,  the  tally-pole  holds  the  chain,  and 
the  ice  holds  the  tally-pole,  the  beaver  is  soon  drowned.     On  my 


200 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


next  round  I  take  off  the  snow,  lift  the  fir-boughs  from  over  where 
the  hole  has  been,  and  look  down  through  the  clear  ice  as  though  it 
was  a  pane  of  glass.  If  I  see  I  have  a  beaver,  I  recut  the  hole,  haul 
it  out,  and  reset  for  another. 

"  There !     I  think  that  will  do  about  beavers.     Let's  go  back  to 
camp  and  get  supper." 


_- 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Moose-calling  Proposed  and  Abandoned. — They  Try  Jack-bunting. — An  Unfortunate 
Encounter.—"  Good  gracious  !    What  did  you  do  that  for  ?" 

SUPPER  having  been  eaten  with  that  keen  relish  which  hunger 
alone  can  give,  and  everything  made  ready  for  the  night,  the 
trapper  left  the  boys  to  their  own  devices  and  vanished  into  the 
outer  darkness.  After  an  absence  of  some  fifteen  minutes  he  re- 
turned and  said : 

"  I  had  intended  to  call  to-night,  but  I  am  afraid  there  is  almost 
too  much  wind  for  it." 

"  Did  you  mean  to  try  to  call  up  a  moose,  Mr.  Dant  ?"  asked 
Harry.  "  Oh,  do  let's  try  it,  anyway.  I  should  so  like  to  see  how 
it  is  done." 

The  trapper  laughed  and  said :  "  You  city  people  are  all  alike. 
You  seem  to  think  that  in  a  country  where  large  game  is  plenty,  all 
that  has  to  be  done  is  to  walk  through  the  woods  and  scoop  them 


202  CITY   BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 

in  right  and  left.  But  the  fact  is  that  a  person  might  range  these 
woods  for  a  month  and  never  see  hide  nor  hair  of  anything  larger 
than  a  rabbit,  unless  he  did  it  in  the  right  way  and  at  the  right 
time.  You  mustn't  think,  because  you  have  chanced  on  a  moose 
and  a  caribou  in  the  short  time  you  have  been  here,  that  that's  the 
ordinary  run  of  luck.  Animals  have  a  mighty  good  notion  of  when 
it  is  healthy  to  be  around  and  when  it  is  healthy  to  leave ;  and 
they  have  the  nose  and  ears  to  give  them  all  the  information  they 
need  to  make  up  their  mind  about  it  too.  If  that  caribou  we  saw 
over  on  the  Little  River  had  come  from  any  other  direction  than 
that  by  which  it  did  come,  it  would  have  smelled  our  fire  a  quar- 
ter of  a  mile  or  more  off,  and  we  would  never  have  even  dreamed  it 
had  been  anywhere  near  us.  Nothing  seems  to  astonish  city  people 
more  than  the  apparent  scarcity  of  animals  in  these  woods.  They 
come  with  the  notion  that  the  backwoods  must  just  swarm  with 
life.  They  go  away  with  the  idea  that  little  except  a  few  scat- 
tering birds  is  to  be  found  here.  If  they  could  only  see  it  after 
the  snow -begins  to  fall,  when  every  moving  thing  leaves  its  track 
behind,  they'd  go  to  the  other  extreme,  and  think  that  the  ani- 
mals were  so  thick  that  they  almost  jostled  one  another  when  they 
moved  about.  The  reason  they  don't  see  more  is  not  that  there  are 
none  to  see,  but  because  the  animals  see,  hear,  or  smell  them  and 
clear  out  long  before  they  are  in  seeing  distance. 

"  As  to  moose-calling,  it's  one  of  the  most  delicate  operations  that 
can  be  tried  in  the  woods — that  is,  if  it  is  to  amount  to  anything. 
It  is  the  call  of  the  cow  that  is  imitated,  and  it  means  in  moose  lan- 
guage that  the  lady  moose  is  at  home,  that  she  feels  lonely,  and  that 
if  there  is  any  gentleman  moose  in  the  neighborhood  she  would  be 
happy  to  see  him.  The  places  in  this  country  where  moose-calling 
can  be  tried  with  a  chance  of  success  are  not  many.  It  must  of 
course  be  a  place  where  moose  range ;  it  must  be  an  open  place,  free 
from  any  cover  except  that  occupied  by  the  hunters ;  and  it  must  be 
a  place  where  the  moose  cannot  cross  the  back  track  of  the  hunters 
without  first  offering  a  shot.  The  calling  is  done  in  the  evening  or 
early  morning,  when  moose  are  moving  about.  A  full  moon  is  nec- 
essary, that  there  may  be  light  enough  to  shoot  by.     The  night 


AFTER  THE   SNOW   BEGINS  TO   FALL. 


JACK-HUNTING.  '205 

should  be  dead-still,  so  that  the  call  may  spread  to  the  greatest  dis- 
tance without  being  drowned  by  the  sound  of  the  wind  through  the 
trees,  and  so  that  an  approaching  animal  cannot  get  the  scent  of  the 
hunters.  But  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  to-morrow ;  it  would  be  worse 
than  useless  to  try  to  call  to-night.  We  can  range  the  stream  for  an 
hour  or  two,  if  you  like,  on  the  chance  of  catching  one  crossing. 
What  do  you  say  V 

Both  boys  approved  the  suggestion.  Thereupon  the  trapper  pro- 
duced from  a  shelf  in  the  camp  a  large  dark  lantern,  provided  with 
a  powerful  light  and  reflector.  A  glass  lens  six  inches  in  diameter 
formed  the  front  of  the  lantern.  Over  this  fitted  a  cover,  hinged 
below  and  opening  from  above,  so  that  when  the  cover  was  closed 
the  light  was  shut  off  entirely.  The  joint  where  the  cover  fitted 
over  the  glass  was  padded  with  buckskin,  so  that  the  cover  could  be 
opened  and  shut  without  the  slightest  noise ;  and  every  aperture 
about  the  lantern  was  so  protected  that  not  the  faintest  glimmer  of 
light  could  escape  except  when  the  cover  was  dropped.  This  the 
trapper  called  a  "  jack-lamp,"  or  more  frequently  simply  a  "  jack." 
He  removed  the  lamp,  filled  it  with  oil,  trimmed  the  wick  carefully, 
and  lighted  it.  He  then  proceeded  to  scour  the  silvered  reflector  at 
the  back  of  the  lantern-case  and  polish  the  glass  lens  till  both  were 
spec kl ess.  He  then  replaced  the  lighted  lamp  in  the  lantern,  set  it 
on  the  table,  and  said : 

"  There ;  we'll  let  the  light  burn  till  the  jack  is  hot.  We  want 
all  the  light  we  can  get  without  smoke.  The  oil  flows  more  freely 
to  the  wick  after  it  gets  warm,  and  a  light  that  burns  all  right 
when  the  jack  is  cool  will  smoke  like  a  pine-knot  when  it  becomes 
hot.  For  lack  of  a  little  care  in  this,  many  a  man  has  opened  his 
jack  to  shoot  and  found  the  inside  covered  with  soot  and  the  jack 
useless.  While  we  are  waiting  I'll  give  you  a  few  points,  in  case  we 
do  come  across  something.  You  see,  the  principle  we  go  on  is  that 
an  animal  with  that  light  in  its  eyes  can't  see  anything  behind  it. 
If  that  was  the  only  thing  to  be  considered  we  would  go  with  the 
jack  open ;  but  it  isn't.  A  deer,  unless  it  has  been  shot  at  from  un- 
der a  jack  a  good  deal,  will  generally  stand  to  a  light,  staring  at  it 
until  you  can  get  plenty  near  enough  to  shoot.     Sometimes  caribou 


206  CITY  BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

will  too,  and  sometimes  they  won't.  Nobody  can  tell  just  what 
caribou  will  do  beforehand,  for  one  moment  they  will  be  the  stupid- 
est of  the  stupid,  and  at  the  next  the  shyest  of  the  shy.  Moose 
won't  stand  to  a  light  at  all,  as  far  as  my  experience  goes.  At  the 
first  sight  of  it  they  bounce  into  the  woods,  and  if  they  care  to 
study  it  any  further,  do  it  from  there,  where  they  are  safe.  The 
light  of  a  jack  or  of  the  moon  will  not  penetrate  the  bushes  or 
woods  one  single  inch.  The  outer  leaves  will  shine  like  silver,  but 
beyond  them  it  will  seem  as  dark  as  the  inside  of  a  fire-proof  safe. 
An  animal  may  be  not  three  feet  behind  the  shining  leaves,  yet  be 
as  invisible  as  though  in  the  next  State.  I've  seen  many  and  many 
a  sportsman  ready  almost  to  tear  his  hair  when  he  could  hear  his 
game  thrashing  about  in  the  bushes  not  forty  feet  away,  and  yet 
couldn't  locate  them  so  as  to  fire,  to  save  his  neck." 

"  Couldn't  he  shoot  at  the  sound  ?"  asked  Dick. 

"  Not  to  hit  anything  except  the  wide,  wide  world,"  replied  the 
trapper.  "  You  see,  most  people's  nerves  are  a  little  disturbed  at 
such  times,  and  then  the  coolest  man  can  hardly  locate  a  sound  at 
night  so  as  to  warrant  a  shot.  In  this  kind  of  hunting  we  rely  en- 
tirely on  our  ears  to  tell  when  we  are  near  game.  Keep  just  as  still 
as  you  can  and  listen  for  all  you  are  worth,  is  the  rule.  There  must 
be  no  talking,  nor  whispering,  nor  moving  about  in  the  boat.  It's 
cold,  crampy  kind  of  business  you'll  find,  and  requires  a  great  deal 
of  patience  and  perseverance.  Do  what  you  will,  use  all  the  skill 
that  man  can  use,  and  still  it  may  be,  and  often  is,  all  thrown  away. 
There  may  be  nothing  near  the  water;  or  a  dozen  animals  may 
cross  above  or  below  you,  but  out  of  sight  and  hearing  from  the 
place  you  happen  to  be." 

"  How  far  will  the  jack  show  an  animal  plain  enough  to  shoot, 
Mr.  Dant  ?"  asked  Harry. 

"  Not  as  far  as  you'd  think.  It  depends  a  good  deal  on  the 
background  against  which  the  animal  stands.  If  the  animal  has 
white  on  it,  and  stands  so  that  the  light  strikes  the  white,  that  part 
can  be  seen  farther  than  the  rest  of  it.  Somewhere  between  thirty 
and  forty  feet  will  be  about  the  average  distance  at  which  the  body 
can  be  seen  by  the  man  under  the  jack.     The  eyes  can  be  seen  con- 


JACK-HUNTINCx. 


207 


siderably  farther.  The  paddler, 
too,  can  make  out  the  animal 
distinctly  when  the  man  under 
the  jack,  and  who  is  to  shoot, 
cannot  see  it  at  all.  My  plan, 
and  the  only  plan,  in  my  judg- 


HOMb  OF    1I1E   DEEK. 


208  CITY  BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

merit,  where  anything  larger  than  deer  is  wanted,  is  to  go  dark, 
and  only  to  open  the  jack  when  near  enough  to  shoot ;  that  is, 
unless  the  animal  starts  when  you  are  almost,  but  not  quite,  near 
enough.  In  that  case,  opening  the  jack  will  generally  stop  even  a 
moose,  for  a  moment  or  two.  and  give  time  and  opportunity  to  get 
close  enough.  We  must  rely  on  our  ears  alone  to  tell  us  when 
game  is  near.  Since  my  ear  is  better  trained,  I  will  probably  first 
hear  any  animal  we  may  come  across  to-night.  Besides,  I  can  tell 
better  whether  any  sound  is  made  by  the  game  we  are  after  or 
not.      You   will   hear   lots  of  noises,  such   as   musk-rats   running 

o 

through  the  grass  or  diving,  that  you  might  mistake  for  game, 
but  which  I  would  understand.  So  if  I  hear  anything  worth  while 
to-night.  I  will  shake  the  boat.  That  won't  make  any  noise,  but 
you'll  feel  it  quick  enough  to  know  that  something  is  up  just  as 
well  as  if  I  spoke.  The  lamp  is  all  right  now.  Take  your  blankets 
and  let's  be  moving." 

On  arriving  at  the  water's  edge,  the  trapper  fastened  a  short 
pole  to  the  right-hand  side  of  the  front  seat  of  the  boat,  upon  which 
he  secured  the  jack.  He  then  produced  two  rough  boards  split 
from  a  tree,  and  arranged  them  as  backs  for  the  front  and  middle 
seats.  He  then  launched  the  boat,  spread  the  blankets  over  the 
seats,  and  told  the  boys  to  take  their  places ;  Harry,  whose  turn  it 
was  to  shoot,  on  the  bow,  and  Dick  as  passenger  on  the  middle  seat. 
That  their  feet  might  make  no  noise  if  moved,  he  next  arranged 
the  blankets  so  that  they  covered  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  and  then 
wrapped  them  carefully  up  and  tucked  the  blankets  in  all  around 
them.  As  arranged  on  the  jack-staff,  the  jack  was  just  over 
Harry's  head,  clearing  it.  as  he  sat.  by  about  an  inch.  He  made 
Harry  open  and  close  the  jack  a  number  of  times,  until  he  could 
readily  find  and  unfasten  and  fasten  the  catch  of  the  cover  by  feel- 
ing. He  then  had  him  throw  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder  in  a  conven- 
ient position  for  shooting,  and  turned  the  jack-staff  until  the  power- 
ful beam  of  light  from  the  jack  took  the  direction  in  which  the 
rifle  was  pointed. 

"  There,  that's  all  right  so  far.  Xow,  Harry,  remember  to  shoot 
at  what  you  see,  and  not  at  what  you  can't  see  and  have  to  guess 


WHERE   TO   AIM   AT   GAME. 


209 


IICNTING    r.Y    MOONLIGHT. 


the  position  of.  Deer  are  to  go  free,  as  we  have  venison  enough. 
Don't  try  a  head  shot  if  you  can  see  the  neck  or  any  of  the  forward 
part  of  the  body  ;  and  don't  try  a  neck  shot  if  you  can  get  one  into 
the  forward  third  of  the  body.  If  the  animal  is  facing  you,  give  it 
to  it  where  the  neck  joins  the  body,  or  as  near  there  as  you  can  see. 
If  you  have  to  fire  at  the  side  of  the  neck,  aim  about  a  quarter  of 
the  way  down  from  its  top  edge.  If  you  can  see  only  the  animal's 
eyes,  don't  shoot  unless  I  whisper  to  you.  It's  a  hard  shot,  as  the 
end  of  the  animal's  nose  will  be  pointing  right  at  you,  and  unless 
14 


210  CITY   BOYS   IN    THE   WOODS. 

you  hold  dead  straight  it  will  be  a  clean  miss.  That  shot  should 
never  be  tried  at  night  unless  it  is  impossible  to  get  nearer.  If  the 
animal  is  broadside  to,  fire  through  the  middle  of  the  fore-shoulder, 
not  behind  it,  but  right  through  the  middle  of  it,  and  about  one- 
quarter  of  the  distance  from  the  breast-line  to  the  back.  After  you 
have  fired  once,  shoot  again  if  you  ha\Te  the  chance.  But  if  not, 
close  the  jack  at  once  and  keep  just  as  still  as  you  can  until  I  speak 
to  you  in  my  natural  tone  of  voice.  Lean  a  little  forward  when 
you  aim,  so  as  to  get  the  light  on  the  back  as  well  as  on  the  front 
sight  of  the  rifle.  You  will  then  be  able  to  aim  at  anything  you 
can  see  as  well  as  if  it  were  broad  daylight.  Take  your  time  to 
shoot,  and  aim  at  a  particular  spot  as  though  your  life  depended  on 
putting  the  bullet  within  the  breadth  of  a  dollar.  A  moose  shows 
up  very  large  under  a  jack,  but  the  places  where  a  bullet  must 
strike  to  knock  it  off  its  legs  are  small.  So  be  careful  to  choose 
those  places  and  be  careful  to  hit  them.  When  your  legs  get  too 
cramped  to  stand  it  any  longer  you  may  move  them,  but  when  you 
do  it,  or  move  your  body,  try  to  be  as  quiet  as  possible.  But  if  I 
have  shaken  the  boat,  stand  it  if  you  can.  Now  throw  a  cartridge 
into  the  rifle-barrel,  half  cock  it,  close  the  jack,  and  letfs  be  off." 

So  saying,  the  trapper  took  his  seat  in  the  stern  of  the  boat, 
folded  his  blanket  around  him  from  the  waist  downward,  seized  his 
paddle,  and  pushed  from  the  bank. 

An  almost  full  moon  just  topped  the  eastern  hills,  lighting  up  the 
western  margin  of  the  stream  and  the  woods  which  approached  the 
bank,  except  when  patches  of  scudding  clouds  veiled  its  face.  Dense 
shadows  projected  over  the  water  from  the  eastern  bank,  cutting 
sharply  into  the  radiant  water  like  a  smear  of  pitch  upon  a  mirror. 
A  gentle  breeze,  keen  and  cold,  occasionally  touched  the  water. 
It  came  like  a  breath,  making  the  visible  face  of  Nature  shiver, 
lasted  but  for  a  moment,  and  then  died  away  in  renewed  calm. 
But  ashore  the  evergreen  forest  sighed  and  moaned  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  wind  like  the  voice  of  a  sick  man.  Upon  the  tense 
nerves  of  the  boys  the  effect  was  decidedly  weird  and  ghostly. 

In  the  gloom,  and  close  to  the  bank  that  made  it,  the  canoe 
stole  on.     The  very  shadows  lay  not  more  silent  on  the  water  than 


A    LIKELY    PLACE    FOR    GAME. 


JACK-HUNTING.  213 

was  the  motion  of  the  boat.  Neither  by  ear  nor  by  sense  of 
feeling  could  the  boys  detect  that  it  moved  at  all.  It  seemed 
rather  as  though  they  were  stationary,  and  that  the  moonlit  bank 
was  moving  slowly  by  them  like  a  panorama. 

When  the  wind  dropped  down  it  seemed  to  them  that  the  still- 
ness could  almost  be  felt.  When  it  rose,  the  most  varied  and  ex- 
traordinary sounds  came  from  the  forest,  sounds  so  human,  so  ago- 
nized, so  awful,  that  it  appeared  almost  impossible  the}7  could  be 
produced  by  anything  devoid  of  life.  Remembering  that  their  ears 
were  to  be  their  guide,  the  boys  listened,  listened  intently,  listened 
as  they  had  never  listened  before,  listened  as  the  blind  man  listens 
when  every  energy  of  his  being  is  given  to  the  only  remaining  sense 
which  still  connects  him  with  the  outside  world.  At  times  they 
thought  they  heard  the  tread  of  an  animal  on  the  bank,  a  rustle  of 
the  grass,  or  a  movement  in  the  water  ;  but  as  the  trapper  made  no 
sign,  they  concluded  that  it  was  a  delusion.  Indeed,  so  great  was 
the  strain  upon  them,  and  so  frequent  these  apparent  mistakes,  that 
before  long  they  began  to  question  their  own  ability  to  distinguish 
the  real  from  the  imaginary. 

Then  the  cold  began  to  make  itself  felt.  It  seemed  to  hunt 
them  over  until  it  found  an  unguarded  spot,  then  to  bore  in  like 
a  gimlet,  and  from  where  it  reached  the  skin  little  icy  shivers 
crawled  over  them  in  every  direction.  From  time  to  time,  and 
always  when  some  fancied  sound  made  them  think  the  most  ab- 
solute stillness  necessary,  an  insane  desire  to  cough,  sneeze,  blow 
their  noses,  or  do  something  else  equally  inopportune,  seized  them. 
Again,  their  strong  desire  to  move  as  little  as  possible  made  every 
position  seem  strained,  uncomfortable,  and  cramped.  Before  the 
first  half-hour  had  passed  they  were  firm  converts  to  the  belief  that 
success  in  that  form  of  hunting  was  only  to  the  patient  and  long- 
suffering. 

Every  little  feeder  to  the  main  stream  was  entered  and  followed 
until  the  boat  could  go  no  farther.  There  it  paused,  and  some  min- 
utes— interminable  minutes  to  the  boys — were  passed  in  silent  lis- 
tening. At  last,  when  in  the  judgment  of  the  trapper  the  wait 
had  been  so  long  that  any  animal  within  hearing  must  have  made 


214 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


known  its  presence  by  some  movement,  the  boat  slowly  and  silently 
returned  and  again  began  to  ascend  the  main  stream.  A  short  dis- 
tance below  the  beaver  dam  the  boys  detected  something  moving  in 
the  water.  A  moment  later  five  black  ducks  sailed  from  the  shadow 
into  the  moonlight,  evidently  in  great  excitement  and  uncertainty 
as  to  the  character  of  the  dark  object  they  saw  approaching.  Sud- 
denly, when  the  boat  was  about  thirty  feet  from  them,  they  left  the 
water  with  a  tremendous  splash  and  flutter  of  wings,  and  with 
hoarse  quackings  vanished  up-stream  and  into  the  night. 

Though  it  happened  before  their  eyes  and  the  cause  was  perfect- 
ly apparent,  the  sudden  clamor  after  such  protracted  stillness  acted 


OVER   A    BEAVER    DAM. 


on  the  nerves  of  the  boys  like  an  electric  shock.  Dick  gave  a  start 
that  set  the  boat  to  rocking  violently.  But  it  was  upon  the  more 
excitable  temperament  of  Harry  that  the  effect  was  most  disastrous. 
The  rifle  was  discharged  in  his  hands,  the  bullet  singing  its  way 
over  the  bog  into  the  distant  woods.  To  their  startled  ears  the  re- 
port sounded  like  that  of  a  six-pounder,  and  echoed  and  re-echoed 
from  hill  to  hill  in  a  roll  of  thunder  which  seemed  as'though  it 
would  never  end. 

"Good  gracious!  What  did  you  do  that  for?"  whispered  the 
trapper. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to,"  replied  Harry,  in  a  voice  broken  by  the 


"GOOD   GRACIOUS!     WHAT   DID   YOU   DO  THAT   FOR?"  215 

keenness  of  his  sense  of  shame.  "  I  had  my  hand  on  the  hammer 
of  the  rifle  so  that  I  could  get  ready  to  shoot  quick  if  a  chance 
came,  and  the  sudden  noise  made  me  start  so  that  I  pulled  it  off 
somehow." 

"  Well,  it  can't  be  helped  now,  anyway.  We'll  land  on  the  little 
island  at  the  beaver  dam  and  see  what's  to  be  done."  A  few  mo- 
ments later  all  three  stood  on  the  island,  the  boat  lying  half  across 
the  beaver  dam,  equally  ready  for  up-stream  or  camp. 

"  Our  chances  were  not  really  first-rate  when  we  started,"  said 
the  trapper,  "and  that  shot  and  the  ducks  haven't  improved  them 
any.  I  am  not  sure  but  the  ducks  are  worse  than  the  shot.  We'll 
put  them  up  two  or  three  times  more  before  we  reach  the  head  of 
the  stream,  and  then  they  will  get  below  us  and  we'll  put  them 
up  two  or  three  times  more  on  our  way  back.  Every  time  they'll 
make  noise  enough  to  wake  the  dead,  let  alone  to  put  a  moose  on 
guard." 

kk  The  shot  was  a  good  deal  louder,"  said  Harry.  "  I  ought  to  be 
kicked !  But  I  won't  spoil  things  again.  It's  no  use  to  take  the 
trouble  to  give  me  any  more  chances,  Mr.  Dant :  I'm  not  good  for 
anything,  anyway.  But  Dick's  all  right.  I'll  wait  here  on  the 
island  till  you  and  he  get  back,  if  you  want  to  try  it  up-stream." 

The  sound  of  tears  in  Harry's  voice  would  have  silenced  the 
kind-hearted  trapper,  even  had  he  been  more  put  out  than  he  was. 

"  Not  much,"  he  replied.  "  You  won't  do  that  trick  again,  I 
know.  The  shot  will  certainly  stir  things  up  some ;  but  if  the  bullet 
doesn't  go  near  them,  game  often  won't  pay  much  attention  to  the 
sound  of  a  gun  unless  close  to  it.  Perhaps  they  think  it  thunder 
or  a  tree  falling.  I  wish  those  ducks,  though,  were  in  the  middle  of 
next  week.  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do :  we'll  wait  here  about  ten 
minutes,  to  let  things  quiet  down  and  get  the  cramps  out  of  our 
legs.  Then  we'll  try  it  up  to  the  head  of  navigation,  and  if  we  hear 
nothing  we'll  go  back  to  camp.  You  take  the  rifle  again,  Harry. 
Keep  it  on  the  half-cock,  and  your  hands  away  from  the  hammer 
and  trigger.  Eemember,  if  we  do  come  across  game  you  will  hear 
it  long  before  there  will  be  any  chance  to  shoot,  so  you'll  have 
plenty  of  time  to  get  ready." 


216 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


It  was  near  midnight  when  the  boys  disembarked  at  the  camp 
boat-landing,  tired,  sleepy,  with  cramped  and  aching  limbs,  and  cold 
to  the  very  marrow  of  their  bones.  No  indication  of  large  game 
had  been  heard.  As  the  trapper  had  foretold,  the  ducks  proved  a 
great  annoyance.  On  nearing  camp,  they  ran  on  them  for  the  last 
time.  "Confound  those  ducks!"  whispered  the  trapper;  "open 
your  jack,  Harry,  and  give  'em  a  dose."  Harry  did  so,  and  with 
one  shot  killed  two.  It's  true,  the  heavy,  flat-pointed  bullet  laid 
them  open,  until  they  looked  more  like  the  remains  from  a  railroad 
accident  than  game  fit  for  food ;  but  that  was  a  matter  of  appear- 
ance rather  than  reality.  The  trapper  was  so  loud  and  long  in  his 
praise  of  the  shot  that  it  was  with  reassured  self-respect  and  re- 
newed confidence  in  himself  that  Harry  rolled  himself  in  his  blank- 
ets and  fell  asleep. 


mm 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Woodsman's  Axe  and  its  Dangers.— An  Accident. — "Grab  it,  there's  buttons 
on  it  !"— Moose-calling.— The  Trapper  calls. — A  Moose  at  last. — A  startling  En- 
counter. 


A  FTER  breakfast,  the  next  day,  Harry  asked,  "  What  are  we  go- 
■£**  ing  to  do  to-day,  Mr.  Dant  ?" 

"  The  first  thing  is  to  build  up  our  wood-pile,  which  is  getting 
low.  We  must  lay  in  enough  to  last  till  to-morrow  and  one  day 
more.  To-morrow  we  ought  to  get  out  of  here  for  the  lake,  moose 
or  no  moose.  I  always  make  it  a  rule  to  have  at  least  one  day's 
firewood  cut  and  in  camp  ;  for  we  always  leave  a  camp  by  day- 
light and  when  we  are  fresh,  but  we  generally  come  to  a  camp  in 
the  evening  when  we  are  tired,  and  often  when  it's  too  dark  to  see 
to  use  an  axe  with  safety.  You  can  come  along  and  help  carry  in 
the  wood,  if  you  like." 

To  see  the  trapper  use  his  axe  was  always  a  fresh  revelation  to 
the  boys.  Not  only  did  the  result  accomplished  seem  out  of  all 
proportion  to  the  time  and  labor  expended,  but  he  appeared  to  have 
perfect  control  of  what  that  result  should  be.  Every  time  he 
felled  a  tree,  he  told  the  boys  where  it  would  fall  and  where  they 


218  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

should  stand  to  be  in  safety,  and  every  time  his  prediction  was 
accurately  fulfilled. 

Before  long,  Harry,  as  usual,  began  to  effervesce.  "  Oh,  Mr. 
Dant,  please  let  me  try  the  axe  a  little  while,  and  show  me  how. 
You  ought  to  have  seen  us  the  night  we  camped  on  the  island  in 
the  river — the  night  before  our  shipwreck.  You  do  more  in  half  a 
minute  than  I  could  do  then  in  nearly  an  hour,  and  I  tried  my  best, 
too.  I  don't  want  to  get  caught  that  way  again  ;  for  I  can  see  now 
that  a  person  might  just  as  well  be  without  his  ten  fingers  in  the 
woods,  as  without  an  axe  and  knowing  how  to  use  it.'' 

"  You  are  quite  right,  Harry,  that  an  axe  and  skill  to  use  it 
are  both  indispensable  in  the  woods.  But  they  are  no  place  for 
a  beginner  to  learn  its  use.  Hospitals  and  doctors  are  scarce  up 
here.  An  axe  is  good  for  nothing  unless  sharp,  and  where  it  falls 
it  leaves  its  mark,  no  matter  whether  what  its  edge  strikes  is 
living  or  dead.  Of  all  the  dangers  of  the  woods  its  use  is  by  far 
the  greatest.  A  knot,  a  twig,  almost  any  unexpected  thing  met 
in  the  downward  blow,  may  make  the  axe  glance,  and  before  you 
know  it  the  mischief  is  done.  The  better  the  axeman,  the  more 
ready  to  admit  the  danger  even  to  himself;  and  if  it  is  a  danger 
to  one  who  can  almost  split  a  hair  at  every  blow,  how  much  great- 
er must  it  be  to  one  who,  like  you,  has  no  idea  when  he  strikes 
where  within  four  or  five  inches  the  axe  will  fall.  No ;  you  let 
the  axe  altogether  alone,  both  of  you.  Kemember,  you  are  not 
to  touch  it  at  all  under  any  circumstances.  I  have  seen  too  much 
trouble  from  that  sort  of  thing  in  my  day  ever  to  want  to  see  any 
more  if  I  can  help  it." 

"  Of  course  I  knew  that  an  axe  would  cut  a  man  as  well  as  a 
log,"  said  Dick,  "  but  I  never  thought  such  a  thing  was  likely  to 
happen  by  accident." 

"  It  is  liable  to  happen  by  accident,  and  it's  liable  to  happen  to 
any  one,  no  matter  how  good  a  woodsman  he  may  be,"  replied  the 
trapper.  "  Two  years  ago  last  September  an  accident  of  that  kind 
happened  at  this  very  camp.  I  was  over  here  with  another  guide 
and  two  gentlemen.  My  companion  found  one  of  the  gentlemen 
amusing  himself  by  trying  to  split  wood  with  his  axe.     He  took  it 


AN   ACCIDENT.  219 

away,  warning  him  of  the  danger,  and  telling  him  that  we  would 
do  all  the  axe-work  required,  and  went  on  to  finish  what  the  gen- 
tleman was  at.  Now,  a  better  hand  with  an  axe  than  my  compan- 
ion couldn't  be  found.  He  had  been  at  it  all  his  life.  Yet  the 
second  or  third  blow  he  made  he  split  his  foot  nearly  to  the  instep, 
and  that  in  broad  daylight,  and  almost  in  the  door-way  of  the  camp. 
I  was  down  at  the  boat-landing  when  it  happened.  The  shouts  of 
the  gentlemen  soon  brought  me  up.  There  I  saw  my  companion 
sitting  on  the  ground  as  pale  as  death,  holding  his  foot  together 
with  his  hands,  the  blood  streaming  out  between  his  fingers.  It 
couldn't  have  been  more  than  a  minute  after  it  occurred,  but  it 
seemed  to  me  as  if  he  had  bled  a  quart  already.  I  was  scared  al- 
most stiff,  I  can  tell  you.  There  he  was,  how  badly  hurt  I  couldn't 
tell,  two  days  from  help  for  the  most  able-bodied  man,  unable  to 
move  himself,  and  with  miles  and  miles  of  unbroken  forest  to  be 
passed  somehow.  But  that  was  no  time  to  consider  the  future  un- 
less we  proposed  to  limit  our  help  to  digging  a  hole  to  put  him  in, 
for  at  that  rate  he'd  soon  bleed  to  death.  I  told  the  gentlemen  to 
hold  his  foot  together  the  best  they  could  so  as  to  stop  the  bleed- 
ing as  much  as  possible,  while  I  grabbed  a  tin  cup  and  jumped  for 
the  woods.  I  filled  the  cup  half  full  of  pitch  from  fir-trees  as 
quick  as  I  could,  but  when  I  got  back  he  had  fainted  from  loss  of 
blood.  We  then  cut  off  his  shoe  and  stocking,  brought  the  wound 
together,  wiped  off  the  blood,  plastered  his  foot  all  over  with  pitch, 
tore  up  our  shirts  and  bound  it  up  tight.  That  stopped  the  bleed- 
ing. We  then  carried  him  inside,  dosed  him  with  some  brandy  one 
of  the  gentlemen  had,  and  laid  him  on  the  bunk. 

"  Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  we  made  a  litter,  and  for 
three  days,  as  long  as  we  could  see,  we  lugged  him  through  the 
woods,  camping  just  where  night  overtook  us.  The  gentlemen  act- 
ed like  bricks.  It  was  a  new  kind  of  thing  to  them,  not  being  used 
to  hard  labor,  but  they  stuck  to  it  as  though  it  was  the  very  thing 
they  had  come  up  here  for.  We  reached  the  lake  in  the  afternoon, 
rowed  across  it,  got  a  lantern,  and  kept  right  on  across  the  carry  to 
the  Forks.  It  must  have  been  nearly  ten  o'clock  at  night  when 
we  reached  the  river,  and  we  were  pretty  well  played  out ;  but  we 


220  CITY   BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 

didn't  stop  on  that  account.  We  put  him  aboard  a  boat,  making 
him  as  comfortable  as  we  could,  rowed  all  night  down  the  river, 
carried  him  from  the  head  of  the  falls  to  the  road,  then  hunted  up  a 
team,  and  drove  him  into  the  settlement.  The  gentlemen  were  com- 
pletely exhausted.  At  first  they  couldn't  eat  a  thing  Avithout  being 
sick,  and  I  began  to  be  scared  about  them ;  but  a  couple  of  days' 
rest  brought  them  round  all  right." 

"  Did  he  get  well  ?"  asked  Harry. 

"  Yes,  he  pulled  through  it  after  a  while  ;  but  then  he  was  in 
perfect  health  and  as  tough  as  a  pine -knot.  I  believe  the  aver- 
age city  man  would  have  died  on  the  way.  There  isn't  a  year 
passes  that  some  one  I  know  doesn't  hurt  himself  that  way ;  and 
they  don't  all  get  off  as  well  as  that,  by  any  means.  I  know  two 
brothers,  experienced  axemen,  one  of  whom  lost  his  leg,  and  the 
other  became  lamed  for  life  from  axe-wounds  in  the  knee,  both  in 
the  same  season.  You  think  I  can  use  an  axe ;  yet  down  on  that 
boat-landing  I  split  my  hand  open  about  five  years  ago.  I  tried  to 
stick  it  out.  but  the  consequence  was  I  was  forced  to  leave  the 
woods  for  a  doctor,  and  came  mighty  near  losing  my  hand.  It  was 
over  three  months  before  I  could  do  anything.  ]So ;  you  take  my 
word  for  it,  a  man  who  isn't  used  to  an  axe  has  no  business  with  it 
— at  least,  with  any  axe  sharp  enough  to  be  good  for  anything  up 
here." 

"  Now  you  explain  it,"  said  Dick,  "  I  can  easily  see  that  it  must 
be  very  dangerous,  but  it  never  occurred  to  me  before.  I  promise 
you  I  won't  touch  the  axe." 

"  Nor  I  either,"  said  Harry. 

"You'd  better  grab  that  idea  and  hang  on  to  it."  said  the  trap- 
per.    "  There's  buttons  on  it." 

"  There's  what  ?"  exclaimed  Dick  and  Harry,  in  a  breath. 

"  You  never  heard  that  expression  before,  I  suppose.  It's  com- 
mon enough,  though,  among  us  woodsmen,  whenever  we  want  to 
encourage  any  one  to  do  a  thing.  It  means  that  it  will  pay  to  do 
it.  There's  a  story  connected  with  it,  but  I  think  by  this  time  you 
must  be  sick  enough  of  my  yarns." 

"  Let's  have  it,"  said  Harry.     "  I  like  your  stories  first-rate." 


GRAB   IT,  THERE'S   BUTTONS   ON   IT 


221 


m'.TWKHN    THE    LAKE    AND   THE    FoKKS. 


"  Well,  I'm  glad  of  that.  I  began  to  be  afraid  you'd  think  my 
tongue  wagged  at  both  ends,  like  an  old  woman's.  But  you  see, 
all  the  talking  I  am  to  do  from  now  until  well  into  May  must 
be  done  while  you're  here.  After  you  leave,  it  will  most  likely 
be  five  months  before  I  have  any  one  to  speak  to  again.     We'd 


222  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

better  get  our  wood  in  now.  After  dinner  I'll  tell  you  about  it,  if 
you  like." 

By  the  time  the  wood  was  cut,  split,  carried  to  camp,  and  piled 
up,  preparations  for  dinner  were  in  order.  Dinner  over,  Harry 
reminded  the  trapper  of  his  promise. 

"  You  remember  the  man  that  I  rode  over  with  the  deer?  Well, 
the  expression  originated  with  him.  Billy  had  a  regular  craze  for 
collecting  things,  and  its  main  object  was  buttons.  I  believe  he  had 
nearly  half  a  bushel,  in  which  could  be  found  every  known  size, 
shape,  and  material.  It  was  in  the  fall,  and  he  and  another  man 
were  bound  out  of  the  woods  for  the  winter,  and  I  was  to  help  them 
down  the  river,  and  return  alone  with  some  supplies.  We  had  a  lot 
of  stuff  to  take  down,  including  Billy's  museum  of  buttons;  and  as 
the  river  was  pretty  well  up,  we  concluded  to  try  to  run  it  in  a  boat 
over  the  rapids  between  the  lake  and  the  Forks,  instead  of  backing 
it  over  the  carry.  There's  about  five  miles  of  those  rapids  —  in 
places  very  nasty.  The  best  of  it  isn't  much  better  than  the  Big 
Rip,  where  you  came  to  grief.  We  arranged  for  the  man  to  take 
the  bow,  I  the  stern,  and  Billy  to  go  in  the  middle  as  passenger. 
Through  the  worst  of  it  we  intended  to  drop  her  down  on  poles  the 
way  I  explained  to  you — that  is,  hold  her  back  with  our  setting- 
poles,  and  let  her  down  slow  and  easy. 

''Everything  went  all  right  for  nearly  two -thirds  of  the  way. 
Then  we  came  to  about  as  cruel-looking  a  piece  of  water  as  I  care 
to  see.  The  current  was  running  like  a  mill  -  race,  roaring  and 
foaming  feather  -  white  over  and  among  the  rocks.  Just  as  we 
were  fairly  into  it,  the  bow-man  jammed  his  pole  between  a  couple 
of  stones  and  couldn't  get  it  out.  He  hung  to  the  pole,  which 
bent  like  a  trout-rod,  but  it  was  no  use.  He  had  to  get  out  of  the 
boat  or  let  it  go,  for  alone  I  couldn't  force  the  boat  up  against 
the  stream,  to  save  my  neck.  I  was  in  the  wrong  end  of  the 
boat  for  that.  He  let  go.  The  check  he  put  on  the  boat  by 
hanging  on  to  the  pole  gave  her  a  set  in-shore  and  nearly  upset 
us.  In  an  instant  the  current  caught  and  carried  her  towards 
an  old  tree  which  had  fallen  into  the  river,  over  and  under  which 
the  water  boiled  and  foamed  in  a  way  that  made  me  wish  I  was 


A   DANGEROUS   POSITION 


THERE  S   ABOUT   FIVE    MILES   OF    THOSE    RAPIDS — IN    PLACES   VERY   NASTY. 


back  at  the  lake.  If  the  current  set  us  up  against  that  tree,  I 
knew  it  would  roll  us  over  in  a  little  less  than  no  time,  and  sweep 
the  boat  and  all  that  was  in  it  under  the  tree.  If  any  of  us  did 
come  out  on  the  other  side,  I  knew,  at  any  rate,  we'd  get  such  a 


224  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

curry  -  combing  on  the  way  as  would  make  us  think  we'd  gone 
through  a  threshing-machine.  It  was  a  time  to  make  a  man  stir 
himself,  if  there  was  any  stir  in  him,  and  you  may  just  believe  that  1 
clawed  water  with  that  pole  all  I  knew.  It  was  a  close  squeak,  but 
we  were  just  going  clear.  Then  in  an  evil  moment  Billy  caught 
sight  of  an  old  jacket  which  some  one  had  abandoned,  hanging  on 
the  tree.  He  couldn't  stand  the  temptation.  Starting  to  his  feet, 
he  sung  out,  'Grab  it,  there's  buttons  on  it!'  It  was  no  kind  of  a 
time  or  place  for  a  bear-dance,  anyway.  The  boat  was  already  half 
full  of  water  from  the  trouble  with  the  pole,  and  was  in  no  condi- 
tion to  stand  any  more  nonsense.  Before  I  could  get  my  mouth 
more  than  half-way  open  to  tell  him  to  keep  quiet,  the  boat  was 
bottom  up,  and  we  were  finning  it  in  the  water  for  dear  life. 

"  When  we'd  fished  out  ourselves  and  such  of  our  belongings  as 
we  could  find,  '  Grab  it,  there's  buttons  on  it !'  had  made  an  impres- 
sion on  us  not  easy  to  forget.  So  to  this  day  all  through  this  neigh- 
borhood, if  any  man  is  in  doubt  whether  he  ought  to  do  a  thing  or 
not,  if  any  one  encourages  him  to  try  it,  it  is  always  by  the  words, 
'  Grab  it,  there's  buttons  on  it !'  " 

"  I  should  think  you  would  have  been  awful  mad,"  said  Harry. 

"  Well,  I  have  seen  times  when  I  have  been  better  pleased,"  re- 
plied the  trapper,  "  but  there  was  no  time  for  talk  if  we  wanted  to 
save  any  of  our  stuff,  particularly  the  boat.  Then  the  water  was 
about  as  cold  as  it  well  could  be  and  not  be  solid,  and  there  was  a 
freezing  wind  blowing.  But  I'm  not  sure  if  the  cream  of  the  per- 
formance was  not  diving  in  the  eddy  below  the  tree  for  our  axes. 
I  don't  think  I  ever  went  into  a  job  with  any  less  enthusiasm.  It 
had  to  be  done,  though,  for  we  had  to  have  a  fire.  One  axe  was  all 
that  was  absolutely  necessary,  and  when  we  had  that  we  didn't  dive 
any  longer  for  anything  else.  Even  the  precious  collection  of  but- 
tons couldn't  induce  Billy  to  take  another  souse.  Some  fellow  will 
find  a  regular  button-mine  in  the  river  one  of  these  days.  Then 
how  he  will  wonder  how  it  got  there !" 

"Do  you  think  we  shall  have  a  good  night  for  moose-calling?" 
asked  Dick. 

"The  weather  looks  promising  now,"  replied  the  trapper,  "but 


HOW    TO   CALL   FOR   MOOSE. 


±11 


you  mustn't  get  your  ideas  up  too  high.  It's  pretty  late  in  the  sea- 
son for  it  now.  Unless  a  bull  that  has  no  cow  with  him  happens 
to  be  within  hearing,  we  won't  make  anything  at  it." 

"  How  do  you  call  them  ?"  asked  Harry. 

"  To  begin  at  the  beginning,  the  first  thing  is  to  make  a  horn. 
To  do  this,  a  cone  of  wood  about  two  feet  long  and  about  five 
inches  across  the  base  must  be  made.  Then  good,  sound  white 
birch  bark  is  soaked  in  hot  water,  wrapped  round  the  cone  until  it's 


MADE  ME  WISH  I  WAS  BACK  AT  THE  LAKE. 


about  an  eighth  of  an  inch  thick,  and  then  tied  there  until  it  dries. 
When  dry,  the  bark  is  taken  off  the  cone,  and  fastened  together  by 
sewing  it  with  a  brad-awl  and  a  thong  of  leather  or  a  piece  of  twine. 
Then  the  ends  are  squared  off  with  a  knife  so  that  the  small  end  of 
the  horn  shows  a  hole  about  one  inch,  and  the  big  end  an  opening 
from  four  and  a  half  to  five  inches  across ;  and  a  thing  which  looks 
like  a  big  speaking-trumpet  without  a  mouth-piece  is  the  result.  It 
isn't  every  piece  of  bark  that  will  give  the  proper  ring,  and  when 
we  get  a  horn  that's  all  right,  we  value  it. 


228  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

"  As  I  told  yon,  it's  the  call  of  the  cow  that  we  try  to  imitate. 
If  they  only  made  one  sound  it  would  be  comparatively  easy,  but 
they  don't.  I  sometimes  have  thought  they  had  a  regular  language 
made  up  of  sighs,  grunts,  groans,  howls,  and  roars,  running  from 
one  into  the  other,  and  varying  in  order  so  that  it  seems  as  if  there 
wasn't  any  rule  about  it.  Still,  for  a  caller  to  grunt  when  he  ought 
to  howl,  or  get  the  order  of  things  wrong  and  let  out  a  roar  before 
the  groan,  when  it  should  have  followed  it,  is  dead  ruin  to  his 
chances  of  success.  To  call  up  a  moose  to  within  thirty  or  forty 
yards,  if  it  can  get  as  near  as  that  without  leaving  cover,  is  not  very 
difficult ;  and  a  good  many  mistakes  may  be  made  without  affecting 
that  result.  But  then  it  answers  the  call  with  its  big  head  brimful 
of  suspicion,  and  to  coax  it  out  into  the  open  ground  is  next  to 
hopeless ;  and  unless  that  can  be  done  a  shot  is  impossible. 

"  It  is  a  hard  thing  to  do  at  any  time.  They  hate  to  quit  the 
cover.  Up  to  its  edge  they  will  come,  and  range  up  and  down  just 
out  of  sight,  thrashing  about  and  making  an  awful  row.  Then  they 
will  try  to  work  in  a  circle  around  the  place  from  where  the  call 
came.  If  they  can  do  that  and  cross  the  hunter's  trail,  or  get  his 
scent  from  the  wind,  that  ends  the  thing  at  once.  That  moose  has 
pressing  business  somewhere  else.  That's  the  reason  why  so  few 
places  up  here  are  fit  for  moose  -  calling.  You  must  have  cover 
from  which  to  call,  the  ground  around  it  must  be  so  open  that  the 
moon  will  show  the  animal  up,  and  the  trail  to  the  stand  must  be 
completely  under  the  command  of  the  rifle. 

"  Sometimes  a  moose  will  range  up  and  down  in  the  edge  of  the 
cover  that  way  for  almost  an  hour.  One  minute  you  think  he  is 
coming  out,  the  next  that  he  is  oif  for  good ;  and  so  it  goes  on.  Of 
all  the  forms  of  hunting  I  know  anything  about,  it's  altogether  the 
most  exciting. 

"  That's  the  time  for  a  real  artist  in  moose-calling  to  show  him- 
self. He  grunts,  groans,  howls,  roars,  sighs,  rasps  his  horn  against 
the  bushes  like  a  bull-moose  polishing  his  antlers,  and  even  gives  the 
bull's  challenge  as  a  last  resort.  He  does  these  and  many  other 
things,  all  in  their  proper  order  and  place,  not  too  loud,  yet  loud 
enough,  and  no  two  of  the  same  loudness.     Among  all  these  he 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


229 


must  choose  which  of  the  many  is  the  right  thing  to  do,  and  make 
no  mistake  about  it  either  in  choice  or  imitation.  For  when  the 
moose  is  so  near  he  is  a  mighty  keen  critic,  and  not  to  be  fooled 
unless  everything  is  just  right.     Then,  besides  knowing  what  sounds 


MOOSE-CALLING. 


to  make,  and  how  to  make  them,  the  caller  must  know  when  to 
keep  silent  altogether.  My  way  is  to  keep  still  when  a  moose  is 
near,  and  to  speak  to  it  only  when  it  has  ranged  to  some  little  dis- 
tance. Even  then,  the  best  plan,  in  my  judgment,  is  for  the  caller 
to  leave  the  man  who  is  to  shoot,  and  to  move  back  forty  or  fifty 


230  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

yards  if  he  can,  and  give  the  bull's  challenge.  A  bull-moose  is  the 
strictest  kind  of  a  monopolist.  He  won't  stand  any  interlopers, 
and  if  that  call  doesn't  fetch  him  out  nothing  will. 

"A  bull-moose  may  answer  the  original  call  by  a  single  short, 
sharp  sound,  very  feeble  for  such  a  big  animal,  and  something  like  a 
dog's  bark ;  or  it  may  say  nothing  at  all.  But  whether  it  answers 
or  not,  it  will  come  as  straight  as  the  crow  flies  to  the  spot  from 
where  the  call  proceeded.  Tso  matter  how  dark  the  woods  may  be 
— and  you  know  it's  dark  in  there  even  on  the  brightest  moonlight 
night — it  seems  never  to  lose  its  reckoning.  If  the  call  has  been  all 
right  it  will  probably  come  crashing  through  the  woods  without  a 
thought  of  concealment ;  but  if  its  suspicions  have  been  aroused 
not  a  sound  will  warn  you  of  its  approach  until  it  is  within  a  few 
yards.  A  good  caller  on  a  favorable  night  can  be  heard  over  two 
miles.  No  mistake  is  worse  than  to  call  too  often.  My  rule  is  to 
call,  and  then  wait  three-quarters  of  an  hour.  The  call  may  have 
been  heard,  and  the  moose  may  be  coming.  It  may  not  have  an- 
swered at  all,  or  it  may  have  answered  out  of  hearing — at  any  rate. 
it  may  be  quite  near  even  though  nothing  has  been  heard  from  it. 
To  give  a  moose  a  chance  to  criticise  so  long  a  performance  as  the 
original  call  at  close  quarters  would  give  the  trick  away  at  once. 
Three-quarters  of  an  hour  is.  however,  plenty  long  enough  and  to 
spare  to  give  any  moose  within  hearing  time  to  come  up  and  make 
itself  known.  This  time  must  be  given  strictly  to  listening,  and 
nothing  else.  No  talking,  nor  moving  about — nothing  but  listening 
with  all  your  might.  To  hear  the  animal  as  soon  as  possible,  so 
that  the  caller  can  judge  what  temper  it  is  in  and  how  it  may  best 
be  coaxed,  is  of  the  utmost  importance. 

"  Very  often,  I  might  almost  say  generally,  nothing  will  be 
heard.  I  then  call  again,  and  wait  as  before.  If  this  fails,  a  third 
trial  may  be  made ;  but  if  there  is  any  other  fit  place  within  reach, 
it  is  better  to  try  it  there.  If  there  isn't,  and  the  third  call  fails, 
you  may  as  well  give  it  up.  Either  no  bull-moose  is  within  hearing 
distance,  or  if  there  is,  it  already  has  a  companion,  and  won't  come, 
anyhow. 

"  Nothing  in  my  experience  with  moose,  caribou,  and  deer  aston- 


MOOSE-CALLING.  231 

ishes  me  more  than  the  way  they  can  get  through  the  woods  at 
night.  As  I  said  before,  any  solitary  bull -moose  will  locate  the 
sound  of  a  call  two  miles  or  more  away,  and  come  for  it  as  straight 
as  if  he  was  on  a  turnpike,  no  matter  how  dark  the  night  or  rough 
the  ground  over  which  it  must  pass.  Start  one  of  these  animals 
from  the  bank  of  a  stream  or  pond  on  the  darkest  kind  of  a  night, 
and  it  will  go  through  the  woods  on  the  keen  jump  over  rocks  and 
windfalls  where  a  man  could  hardly  make  a  hundred  feet  in  half 
an  hour.  You  would  think  they  would  break  their  thin  legs  like 
pipe-stems  more  than  forty  times  before  they'd  covered  a  quarter  of 
a  mile,  but  somehow  they  don't.     How  they  do  it  beats  me." 

About  eight  o'clock  that  evening  Harry  and  Dick  found  them- 
selves perched  on  a  platform  built  of  poles  in  the  tops  of  a  clump 
of  small  spruces,  one  of  the  many  islands  of  trees  which  dotted  the 
surface  of  the  bog.  The  margin  of  the  stream  could  be  seen  not 
thirty  yards  distant,  and  through  the  middle  of  the  open  ground 
they  had  reached  their  stand  under  the  guidance  of  the  trapper. 
Nothing  could  approach  their  trail  without  exposing  itself  to  view. 
On  every  side,  the  full  moon  glistened  like  silver  on  the  whitish 
moss  which  carpeted  the  bog,  which  was  open  to  view  for  forty  or 
fifty  yards  in  every  direction.  The  boys  saw  at  once,  from  what 
the  trapper  had  told  them,  that  the  place  was  well  chosen. 

They  first  climbed  to  their  perch,  and  then  hoisted  up  their 
blankets  by  a  rope.  They  then  lowered  the  rope,  the  trapper  fast- 
ened it  to  the  rifle,  climbed  up  himself,  and  the  rifle  was  pulled  up. 
The  trapper  then  placed  the  boys  in  a  position  to  face  the  hills 
from  which  he  expected  the  game  would  come,  if  it  came  at  all, 
wrapped  them  up  in  their  blankets,  loaded  the  rifle,  half-cocked  it, 
put  it  in  Harry's  hands,  and  cautioned  the  boys  to  be  still  and  to 
keep  their  ears  open.  He  then  rose  to  his  knees,  facing  the  mount- 
ains, applied  his  horn  to  his  lips,  its  mouth  pointing  directly  down- 
ward. Again  and  again  he  inflated  his  lungs  and  silently  breathed 
through  the  horn  to  dampen  its  interior,  and  thus  facilitate  the  pro- 
duction of  the  tone. 

Then  taking  in  the  last  cubic  inch  of  air  he  could  find  room  for, 


CITY   BOYS   IN    THE    WOODS. 


I 


he  began.  A  weird,  unearthly  sound  rose  on  the  still  night  air — 
not  loud  at  first,  but  gradually  gaining  in  strength  and  rising  in 
pitch,  until  it  died  away  in  a  strain  so  wild,  so  plaintive,  it  would 
almost  move  a  heart  of  stone.  During  the  call,  which  may  have 
lasted  some  thirty  seconds,  the  mouth  of  the  horn  had  gradually 
described  a  figure  in  the  air  something  like  the  figure  eight,  the  high- 
est elevation  coinciding  with  the  loudest  part  of  the  call ;  and  the 
movement  was  completed,  and  the  call  died  away,  with  the  mouth 

of  the  horn  again  pointing  direct- 
S*'       --„,  ly  downward.     During  the  call  the 

,'  \  head  of  the  trapper  conformed  to 

the  movement  of  the  horn  by  bend- 
ing his  neck,  and  the  result  was  a 
peculiar  quavering  inflection  diffi- 
cult to  obtain  otherwise  and  essen- 
tial to  success. 

A  pause  of  two  or  three  seconds 
and  again  the  cry  rang  out.  This 
time  it  was  pitched  a  little  higher 
in  the  scale,  and  the  greatest  vol- 
ume of  sound  was  nearer  the  begin- 
ning, the  pitch  again  rising  with  the 
intensity  of  the  tone,  quavering,  and 
dying  away  as  before. 

Another  pause  briefer  than  be- 
fore, and  again  the  call  broke  the 
oppressive  stillness  of  the  night.  It 
began  with  every  accent  of  impatience,  and  as  loud  as  would  ad- 
mit of  an  increase  of  power  at  the  finish.  The  intensity  of  the 
tone  was  varied  from  both  previous  calls,  as  was  the  motion  of  the 
horn,  until,  with  its  mouth  pointing  directly  at  the  mountain,  the 
call  ended  in  a  Avild  roar,  delivered  with  all  the  power  of  the 
trapper's  lungs,  and  terminating  abruptly  in  silence  when  at  its 
very  loudest. 

Then  followed  the  weary  wait.     It  was  their  jacking  experience 
over  again.    First  they  thought  they  heard  all  sorts  of  things  ;  then 


MOVEMENT  OP  THE  HORN  IN  THE 
MOOSE-CALL. 


o,  mouth  of  the  horn.    Arrows  show  direc 
tion  of  motion. 


A  MOOSE   AT   LAST.  233 

they  doubted  if  they  had  really  heard  anything ;  and  finally  con- 
cluded they  could  not  distinguish  what  they  actualh7  heard  from 
what  they  fancied  they  heard.  The  cold  and  the  cramps,  too, 
repeated  themselves.  Again  and  again  Harry  asked  the  trapper 
in  a  whisper  whether  it  wasn't  time  to  call  again,  and  again  and 
again  received  "No"  for  his  answer.  At  last,  after  what  both 
boys  felt  sure  must  be  at  least  two  hours,  the  trapper  whispered, 
"  I'll  call  again ;  and  if  we  hear  nothing,  our  only  chance  is  to  try 
the  jack." 

The  call  was  made  as  before.  At  last,  after  an  apparently  in- 
terminable time,  the  trapper  said  :  "I  was  afraid  it  would  turn  out 
this  way  so  late  in  the  season ;  but  it  doesn't  follow,  because  there 
is  no  solitary  bull  in  hearing,  that  there  is  nothing  for  us.  Stretch 
yourselves  and  get  the  cramps  out  of  you  before  you  try  to  climb 
down.  I'll  lower  the  rifle  first,  then  you  get  down  and  unfasten 
it,  and  I'll  lower  the  other  things.  Then  chase  one  another  about 
a  while  till  you  get  warm,  and  we'll  try  the  jack  " 

The  boat  had  proceeded  some  half-mile  down-stream,  stealing 
along  without  a  sound  under  the  shadow  of  the  bank.  The  boys 
had  abandoned  all  hope.  They  had  lost  all  reckoning  of  where 
they  were,  or  how  far  distant  the  now  earnestly  wished  for  camp 
might  be.  Suddenly  they  heard  a  sound  below  them,  slow  and 
measured — "  slosh,  slosh,  slosh."  Then  silence  followed.  There  was 
no  mistaking  this  time  that  the  sound  was  actual  and  not  imagi- 
nary, and  that  it  differed  from  anything  they  had  heard  before. 
But  were  there  room  for  doubt,  it  was  instantly  removed  by  the 
shaking  of  the  boat.  It  was  the  preconcerted  signal.  They  had 
come  on  large  game  other  than  deer  at  last. 

A  moment  before,  the  boys  had  felt  chilled  to  the  bone.  Now 
the  blood  coursed  through  their  veins  like  fire,  and  tingled  to  their 
very  finger-ends.  It  seemed  to  them  as  though  the  dullest  ear  must 
detect  their  labored  breathing  and  the  loud  beating  of  their  hearts. 
If  the  boat  had  moved  slowly  before,  a  glance  at  the  moonlit  shore 
showed  that  it  moved  doubly  slow  now.  Foot  by  foot,  it  barely 
crept  along  close  under  the  shadow  of  the  bank.  Again  the  same 
sound  was  heard,  and  a^ain  silence  followed  it.     The  animal  was 


234  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

evidently  still  in  the  water,  but  how  long  would  it  remain  there  \ 
Why  did  not  the  boat  push  on  to  meet  it  before  it  could  escape  ? 

At  last  came  the  low  whisper,  "  Open  the  jack."  In  his  excite- 
ment and  hurry  Harry  fumbled  the  fastening  some  little  time,  but 
at  last  the  cover  dropped  and  the  light  streamed  out.  At  the  in- 
stant, out  of  the  gloom  in  front  of  him,  not  much  over  thirty 
feet  distant,  appeared  two  great  objects,  dim  and  shadowy,  of 
elephantine  size.  Their  unexpected  bulk,  and  the  green,  malevo- 
lent glare  of  their  eyes  under  the  light,  paralyzed  Harry  for  the 
moment.  He  stared  at  them  without  a  motion.  A  moment  later 
from  the  stern  of  the  boat  came  the  low  whisper,  "  You've  got  to 
shoot." 

At  the  sound,  low  as  it  was,  the  larger  of  the  two  animals  turned, 
rushed  across  the  stream  with  tremendous  splashings,  and  crashed 
into  the  woods  on  the  farther  bank.  The  smaller  hesitated,  fol- 
lowed half-way,  turned  back  again  almost  to  the  bank,  then  again 
changed  its  mind  and  moved  once  more  to  follow  its  companion. 
By  this  time  Harry  had  recovered  himself.  He  threw  his  rifle 
to  his  shoulder,  and,  mindful  of  what  he  had  been  told,  leaned  for- 
ward till  the  light  settled  well  on  its  back  sight,  drew  as  careful  an 
aim  on  the  front  of  the  animal's  body  as  his  shaking  hands  would 
permit,  and  pulled  the  trigger.  In  the  confined  space  between  the 
overarching  trees  the  report  of  the  rifle  sounded  like  a  perfect  crash, 
and  the  sudden  flash  of  light  from  its  muzzle  blinded  him. 

The  next  instant  came  the  whisper,  "  Close  the  jack ;"  and  the 
canoe  withdrew  twenty  or  thirty  yards  up-stream,  and  nestling 
close  in  to  the  shaded  bank,  came  to  a  stop.  Five,  ten,  fifteen  min- 
utes passed  without  a  sound.  Then  the  trapper  spoke  in  his  natural 
voice. 

"  You've  done  it  this  time,  Harry.     That's  our  meat  sure." 

"  Are  you  really  sure,  Mr.  Dant  ?     It  seems  too  good  to  be  true." 

"  As  sure  as  death  and  taxes,"  replied  the  trapper.  "  It  hasn't 
left  the  water,  and  it  would  have  done  it  before  this  if  it  could. 
You  may  rely  on  it  you've  killed  a  moose  for  once  in  your  life." 

"  So  those  were  moose  V  said  Dick.  "  They  looked  big  enough 
for  elephants." 


i m 


MOOSE-HUNTING  BY  JACK-LIGHT. 


"THAT'S   OUR   MEAT   SURE."  237 

"  Yes,  those  were  moose,  a  bull  and  a  cow.  Harry's  got  the 
cow.  I  told  you  they  showed  up  mighty  big  under  a  jack.  Did 
you  notice  the  horns  on  the  bull  ?" 

"  Notice  them  V  said  Dick.  "  I  should  think  I  did  !  They  looked 
in  that  uncertain  light  as  if  they  were  at  least  six  feet  across ;  and 
how  it  did  switch  them  about  before  it  made  up  its  mind  what  to 
do!  How  high  do  you  suppose  that  bull  was  at  the  fore-shoulder, 
Mr.  Dant  ?" 

"  It's  pretty  hard  to  say,  as  it  stood  in  a  foot  or  so  of  water. 
But  it  was  about  as  large  a  moose  as  you  often  see.  I  should  say  it 
would  stand  very  close  to  seven  feet  high.  Anyway,  you  may 
make  up  your  minds  that  you  will  have  to  hunt  these  woods  for  a 
long  time  before  you  will  see  a  bigger  one.  That  is,  any  one  but 
you  would." 

"  Why  any  one  but  us  ?"  asked  Harry. 

"  Because  for  cold  luck  you  lads  beat  the  record.  The  charm 
hasn't  always  seemed  to  work  really  first-rate  on  the  water,  but  as 
far  as  chancing  on  game  is  concerned  when  everything  is  against 
you,  I  never  saw  anything  like  it.  You  couldn't  have  chosen  a 
worse  time  during  the  whole  year  than  this.  It's  betwixt  and  be- 
tween, either  too  early  or  too  late  for  any  kind  of  hunting.  Yet 
three  moose,  a  caribou,  and  three  deer  have  put  themselves  in  your 
way  during  the  short  time  you  have  been  up  here.  There  wasn't 
one  chance  in  five  hundred  to-night  of  our  coming  on  a  moose  cross- 
ing the  river,  and  that  was  our  only  show  after  our  calling  failed. 
Yet  you  came  on  two,  and  just  at  the  right  minute,  too." 

"  Our  luck  may  be  good,  Mr.  Dant,"  said  Harry,  "  but  our  man- 
agement, as  soon  as  we  can't  rely  on  you,  about  makes  it  even. 
Why  didn't  I  get  the  bull  instead  of  the  cow  ?  Because  I'm  such  a 
lunk-head  that  I  was  gaping  at  them  as  if  they  were  made  of  fire- 
works and  I  was  waiting  to  see  them  blow  up.  If  you  hadn't  whis- 
pered to  me,  and  the  bull  hadn't  started  out,  I  don't  believe  I'd  have 
thought  of  firing  until  now.  It's  no  use,  Mr.  Dant.  I  begin  to 
think  I'm  good  for  nothing  in  the  woods  except  to  make  a  fool 
of  myself.  If  Dick  had  been  in  my  place  he  would  have  got  the 
bull  sure." 


238  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

"  Oh,  come,  Harry,  what's  the  use  of  talking  that  way  ?"  replied 
Dick.  "  I  don't  believe  I  would  have  done  half  as  well.  I  don't 
see  how  any  one  could  have  done  much  better  than  to  kill  his  game 
right  on  the  spot  with  a  single  shot.  I  didn't  do  that  with  my  deer, 
though  I  had  daylight  to  shoot  by.  To  see  those  great  animals  sud- 
denly start  out  of  the  night,  apparently  as  big  as  a  small  church,  and 
with  a  look  in  their  eyes  as  if  they  were  just  hungering  to  eat  you 
up,  is  enough  to  make  any  one  forget  himself  for  a  minute." 

"  Right  you  are,  Dick,"  said  the  trapper.  "  Harry  has  done  first- 
rate.  I  only  wish  he  could  see  what  the  most  of  them  do  the  first 
time  they  try  a  moose.  He'd  think  then  he  was  a  regular  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  among  sportsmen,  instead  of  fancying  he  is  good  for 
nothing.  That  bull  was  old  and  tough.  The  way  he  got  out  of 
there  showed  he  had  the  wisdom  which  comes  from  long  experience. 
He  didn't  stop  to  fool  any  time  away  on  sentiment  for  his  com- 
panion, but  just  took  care  of  his  own  hide  without  a  second's  hesi- 
tation. The  cow  will  be  ever  so  much  better  eating,  and  if  Harry 
is  mourning  for  the  head  and  horns,  and  thinking  how  he  would 
have  liked  to  show  them  at  home,  why,  I  can  tell  him  we  could  not 
have  taken  them  out  from  here,  anyway.  There's  a  limit  to  what 
a  man's  back  can  carry.  But  now  that  we've  talked  the  thing  over, 
suppose  we  open  the  jack  and  hunt  up  our  game." 

A  short  distance  below,  they  found  it  lying  dead  upon  a  gravel- 
bar  at  the  edge  of  the  shallow  water.  After  the  boys  had  had  some 
time  to  examine  their  trophy,  the  trapper  said  : 

"  Well,  boys,  I  suppose  we  had  better  think  of  camp  now.  We'll 
leave  the  moose  here,  since  it  won't  run  away  before  to-morrow 
morning,  and  because  we  can't  move  it  anyway  till  we've  cut  it  up. 
Dick,  you  take  the  bow  and  the  rifle ;  Harry,  you  take  the  middle 
seat,  close  the  jack,  and  let's  be  off.  Keep  quiet,  and  perhaps  I  may 
show  you  another  surprise  before  we  get  through." 

As  the  boat  ran  down  the  stream  the  boys  thought  they  had 
never  experienced  a  night  so  still.  The  many  sounds  that  usually 
attract  attention  after  dark  in  the  woods  of  the  settlements  were 
entirely  wanting.  It  seemed  like  the  silence  of  death  itself.  Sud- 
denly, from  within  thirty  feet  of  the  boat  came  a  noise  as  though  a 


A   QUIET   DIVE. 


239 


stone  at  least  two  feet  in  diameter  had  been  hurled  from  the  top  of 
some  high  tree  into  the  water. 

Both  boys  gave  a  violent  start.  "  Good  gracious  !  what's  that  ?" 
exclaimed  Harry. 

tk  That's  the  surprise  I  said  I'd  show  you,"  replied  the  trapper. 
"  That's  what  I  wanted  you  to  keep  quiet  for.  Now  you  can  make 
as  much  noise  as  you  like." 

"  But  what  was  it?"  asked  Dick. 

"  That  was  one  of  our  friends  the  beavers  taking  a  quiet  dive. 
That's  the  way  they  do  when  they  are  scared  when  swimming  on 
the  surface.  Sometimes  they'll  keep  it  up  for  ten  minutes  on  end, 
at  the  rate  of  one  dive  a  minute  or  oftener." 

"  But  I  thought  you  said  a  beaver  weighed  only  sixty  pounds," 
said  Harry.  "  The  thing  that  made  that  noise  must  have  weighed 
half  a  ton  at  least." 

"  I  know  it  sounds  so,"  replied  the  trapper.  "  That's  where  the 
surprise  comes  in.  It's  so  hard  to  believe  an  animal  not  much  over 
two  feet  long  can  make  a  noise  the  size  of  a  two-story  house,  but 
it's  a  fact  all  the  same.  I've  seen  them  do  it  many  a  time  when  I've 
come  on  them  moonlight  nights,  and  wished  they'd  take  themselves 
and  their  noise  somewhere  else." 

Soon  afterwards  they  arrived  at  camp,  tired  but  happy. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Return  to  the  Lake.— "Tit  for  tat,"— The  Trapper  Lectures  on  Caribou. — Appear- 
ance of  the  Caribou.— Habits  of  the  Caribou.— The  Caribou's  Curious  Tricks  on 
the  Ice. — Food  of  the  Caribou. — A  Trial  of  Speed. — A  Chase  on  Snow-shoes. — A 
Caribou  Hunt. 


TN"  the  evening  of  the  third  day  after  the  death  of  the  moose  the 
-*-  boys  drew  near  the  lake  with  the  last  of  their  meat.  Nothing 
but  solid  flesh  free  of  bones  and  from  the  best  parts  of  the  animal 
had  been  brought,  yet  more  than  once  fatigue  had  made  them  al- 
most wish  it  still  on  foot  in  the  forest.  The  last  day  had  been  un- 
usually trying.  A  tempest  of  cold  rain  and  sleet  prevailed.  The 
boys  were  astonished  to  find  how  much  sooner  they  became  wet 
through,  and  how  much  more  thoroughly  they  were  soaked  in  the 
woods,  than  would  have  been  the  case  had  they  been  exposed  to 
the  full  fury  of  the  storm  without  the  apparent  shelter  of  the 
trees.  Every  bush  was  charged  with  moisture,  which  showered 
down  on  them  with  the  slightest  touch,  and  which  was  forced 
through  their  clothes  to  their  skins  by  incessant  contact  with  the 


RETURN   TO  THE   LAKE.  241 

many  obstacles  which  had  to  be  surmounted  in  their  way.  The 
ground  became  soft  and  soapy,  while  every  root  seemed  as  if  it 
were  greased.  To  add  to  their  difficulties,  their  pack -straps  be- 
came soggy  and  cut  their  shoulders,  while  the  chill  of  their  wet 
garments  prohibited  all  but  the  briefest  possible  halts  for  rest.  In 
vain  the  trapper  laughed,  joked,  and  exerted  himself  to  keep  up 
their  spirits.  The  way  seemed  interminable.  It  was  a  phase  of 
forest  life  they  had  never  taken  into  consideration  before,  and  a 
most  unpleasant  one  they  thought  it.  When  at  length  the  lake 
appeared,  two  more  utterly  wretched  persons  had  seldom  ap- 
proached its  shores. 

Nor  when  the  boat  was  at  last  reached  were  they  allowed  to 
rest.  Each  was  given  an  oar,  while  the  trapper  used  the  paddle,  till 
they  landed  before  the  camp.  The  boys  had  seen  some  magnificent 
buildings  in  their  day,  but  never  upon  any  one  of  them  had  their 
eyes  rested  with  such  pleasure  as  upon  that  humble  log-hut. 

The  moment  they  were  ashore  the  trapper  said :  "  I'll  look  out 
for  things  here,  you  bounce  for  camp  the  best  you  know,  strip  to 
the  skin,  and  roll  yourselves  up  in  the  dry  blankets  hanging  over 
the  bunk.  Then  lie  there  till  I  come  up  and  start  the  fire."  They 
did  so.  The  trapper  pulled  his  boat  high  on  the  shore  and  fastened 
it,  took  care  of  the  meat,  built  a  fire  in  camp,  and  made  some  hot 
tea,  of  which  he  insisted  that  the  boys  should  each  drink  nearly  a 
pint.     Then,  and  not  till  then,  did  he  seem  to  begin  to  consider  his 

own  comfort. 

* 

All  night  long  the  wind  roared,  and  sheets  of  rain,  alternating 
with  blinding  snow-squalls,  beat  upon  the  camp.  In  the  morning 
the  storm  still  continued.     After  breakfast  the  trapper  said : 

"  Well,  boys,  how  do  you  feel  after  yesterday's  little  pleasure 
tramp  ?" 

"  I'm  all  right !"  said  Dick.  "  My  shoulders  are  rather  sore  yet 
and  I'm  a  little  stiff,  but  it  doesn't  amount  to  anything." 

"  That's  just  my  case,"  added  Harry.     "  But,  Mr.  Dant,  as  things 
go  in  the  woods,  don't  you  call  yesterday  a  pretty  hard  day  ?     You 
kept  whistling  and  singing  and  firing  off  your  jokes ;  but  honestly 
now,  didn't  you  think  to  yourself  it  was  pretty  tough  ?" 
16 


242  CITY   BOYS   IN    THE   WOODS. 

"  The  woods  are  never  very  pleasant  in  wet  weather,"  replied  the 
trapper,  "  especially  if  it's  cold  wet  weather;  and,  loaded  as  we  were, 
it  was  what  any  woodsman  would  call  a  pretty  rough  tramp.  But 
still,  I  will  see  many  and  many  a  worse  one  before  the  winter  s  over. 
You  stuck  it  out  first-rate,  though — better  than  I  expected,  consider- 
ing the  loads  you  had." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  expected,"  said  Dick,  "  but  I  do  know 
one  thing,  and  that  is,  long  before  we  reached  the  lake  I  thought  I 
wouldn't  be  able  to  get  over  another  half-mile." 

"  Why  didn't  you  say  so  ?"  replied  the  trapper,  "  and  I  would 
have  taken  part  of  your  load,  or  hung  it  on  a  tree  and  gone  back 
for  it.  Ten  or  fifteen  pounds  on  top  of  a  man's  load  make  a  won- 
derful difference  with  his  travelling;  particularly  in  wet  weather, 
when  everything  underfoot  is  so  slippery.  But  you  city  people  are 
all  alike.  If  you  don't  always  know  what  ought  to  be  done  in  the 
woods  as  well  as  you  think  you  do,  you  almost  always  have  first- 
class  pluck.  I've  seen  many  a  city  man  stick  to  a  pack  to  which  he 
was  entirely  unaccustomed,  when  many  countrymen,  if  so  over- 
worked, would  have  insisted  on  camping  at  once.  I'll  never  forget 
one  case  of  the  kind.  But  there,  I  was  nearly  running  off  into 
another  story." 

"  Oh,  do  let's  have  it !"  said  Dick.  "  There's  nothing  to  do  to- 
day except  to  listen  to  the  wind  roar  and  the  pouring  of  the  rain, 
is  there  ?" 

'•Well,  no,  I  don't  know  as  there  is,"  replied  the  trapper;  "so 
here  goes. 

"  One  year  a  party  of  gentlemen  arranged  with  me  to  meet  them 
over  in  Canada  to  guide  them  to  this  camp  through  the  woods. 
They  were  old  hands  at  it,  and  had  been  up  here  a  good  deal  and 
had  seen  most  of  the  country.  This  was  to  be  a  new  trip.  They 
were  an  athletic  lot,  tennis  and  ball  players,  runners,  jumpers, 
and  I  don't  know  what  all.  It's  about  a  four  days'  tramp  to  get 
through  if  you  are  reasonably  industrious.  They  had  only  one 
fault.  They  had  a  lot  of  novels  with  them,  and  after  breakfast 
mornings  they'd  loll  round  smoking  and  reading.  When  the  time 
came  to  make  up  packs  and  start,  some  one  would  always  want  '  to 


AT   THE   BOG. 


243 


WHEN   AT   LENGTH   THE   LAKE   APPEARED. 


just  finish  this  chapter.1  When  he  was  through,  another  would  be 
in  the  same  fix,  and  so  on.  So  we  always  made  late  starts  and  late 
camps,  which  is  just  the  wrong  way  in  the  woods.  At  last  we 
reached  the  camp  over  at  the  bog.  We  talked  it  over  that  evening, 
and  all  agreed  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf  after  that  and  get  away  at  a 
reasonable  hour  the  next  day.  When  morning  came  we  had  to 
get  in  some  more  fire-wood  before  we  started,  so  as  to  leave  one 


244  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

clay's  dry  fuel  in  camp.  One  of  the  party  went  by  the  nickname 
of  '  Tot.'  While  we  guides  were  getting  in  the  wood,  he  outs  with 
his  novel  and  begins  to  read.  When  we  were  through  and  the 
packs  were  all  made  up  but  his,  as  usual  he  '  just  wanted  to  finish 
this  chapter.' 

"  We  had  knapsacks  for  all  the  party  except  one,  and  for  him 
we  had  a  big  pack-basket.  As  every  one  hated  the  pack-basket, 
it  was  agreed  that  they  should  take  turns  at  it.  This  was  Tot's 
day.  When  the  other  gentlemen  found  that  Tot  was  at  the  old 
game,  they  quietly  took  his  basket  down  to  the  stream,  dumped  it, 
hunted  up  the  biggest  stone  they  could  find  that  could  be  coaxed 
through  its  mouth,  put  it  in,  and  covered  it  out  of  sight  with  the 
things  they  had  taken  out.  They  then  carried  it  back  without  Tot's 
knowing  it,  made  up  his  pack  for  him,  and  began  once  more  to 
tease  him  to  start.  At  last  he  got  through  his  chapter  and  said  he 
was  ready.  I  thought  he  looked  rather  queer  when  he  slung  his  pack, 
but  I  supposed  it  was  because  he  was  vexed  at  their  teasing  him. 

"  We  didn't  go  the  way  you  did,  as  we  wanted  to  visit  some 
ponds  to  the  westward.  We  went  down  the  bog  stream  and 
crossed  on  the  rocks.  After  that  it's  a  steady  pull  uphill  till  the 
top  of  the  boundary  ridge  is  reached.  I  led  the  way,  with  Tot  just 
behind  me.  By-and-by  I  thought  I  heard  him  breathing  pretty 
hard.  Just  then  I  climbed  a  tough  windfall  and  turned  to  take  a 
look  at  him.  I  saw  at  once  that  it  was  time  for  him  to  rest,  though 
I  thought  it  was  rather  queer  that  he  should  give  out  so  quick ;  so 
I  said,  '  Boys,  suppose  we  take  a  rest  and  smoke.'  In  a  minute  all 
the  packs  were  off,  and  every  man  put  himself  in  the  position  he 
thought  most  comfortable.  Tot  sat  down  on  his  pack,  got  out  his 
handkerchief,  and  began  to  mop  himself.  He  looked  as  though  he 
needed  it  too.  I  went  and  brought  him  some  water,  which  he 
drank ;  but  he  didn't  seem  to  chipper  up  much. 

"  Then  one  of  them  said  to  another,  '  Did  you  bring  any  speci- 
mens from  the  bog  ?' 

"  '  No ;  did  you  V 

' '  Yes ;  I  always  like  to  bring  away  a  specimen  or  two  from 
every  place  I  camp  at.     They're  such  a  pleasant  reminder/ 


A   SPECIMEN   FROM  THE   BOG. 


2±5 


Y   ARE   SPRING   PONDS,  AND   MlfiHTY   COLD. 


"  '  Why,  what  kind  of  specimen  did  you  bring  from  the  bog?' 

"  '  Oh,  a  geological  specimen — a  perfect  beauty.  If  you  want  to 
see  it,  it's  in  Tot's  pack.' 

"  '  Get  up,  Tot,  and  let's  have  a  look  at  it.' 

"  You  ought  to  have  seen  his  face  when  he  saw  that  stone — a 
stone  about  twice  as  big  as  an  old-fashioned  iron  tea-kettle,  and  which 
must  have  weighed  over  thirty  pounds — come  out  of  his  pack." 

"  Wasn't  he  mad  V  asked  Harry. 

"  No ;  or,  at  any  rate,  he  didn't  show  it  if  he  was.  He  looked 
kind  of  queer  for  a  minute,  and  then  said,  '  All  right,  boys ;  I  owe 
you  one'— that  was  all.  But  the  next  day  happened  to  be  the 
birthday  of  the  man  who  was  so  fond  of  specimens.  We  were  over 
at  the  ponds.     They  are  spring  ponds,  and  mighty  cold.     The  gen- 


240  CITY  BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

tleman  of  geological  tastes  was  reading  away  for  dear  life  at  a 
novel.  I  noticed  Tot  whispering  to  the  others.  Suddenly  they 
grabbed  the  man  who  was  reading,  neck  and  heels,  and  carried  him 
down  to  the  edge  of  the  pond,  in  spite  of  his  kicks  and  struggles. 
Then  Tot  said :  '  He  wants  a  specimen  of  the  water  of  this  pond  to 
take  away.  It  would  be  unkind  for  us  to  let  him  forget  it.  These 
specimens  are  such  pleasant  reminders.''  Then  they  swung  him, 
'one,'  'two,'  'three,'  and  sent  him  flying  out  into  that  pond  fifteen 
feet  or  more.  They  were  always  skylarking  with  one  another.  It 
was  pretty  rough  play  at  times,  but  they  seemed  always  to  take  it 
in  good  part." 

"  By-the-way,  Mr.  Dant,"  said  Dick,  "  I  meant  to  speak  to  you 
about  something  that  happened  the  night  we  went  moose-calling. 
You  had  told  us  to  be  quiet  at  the  time,  so  I  couldn't  speak  of  it 
then,  and  I  haven't  thought  of  it  since  when  it  was  convenient  to 
talk  about  it.  How  far  do  you  suppose  we  were  over  there  from 
other  people  ?" 

k*  Of  course  I  don't  know  for  sure,  but  I  doubt  if  there  was  a  liv- 
ing soul  within  fifty  miles  or  more  of  us.     Why '." 

"  Because,"  continued  Dick,  "  I  heard  some  one  that  evening  fire 
a  double-barrelled  gun,  one  barrel  right  after  the  other.  It  sounded 
a  little  softer  than  a  gun  does  close  to — more  like  '  bung !  bung !' 
than  '  bang !  bang !'  but  of  course  the  distance  accounted  for  that, 
as  it  was  a  long  way  off.  Still,  I'm  sure  I  made  no  mistake  about 
hearing  it,  or  that  it  was  a  gun." 

"  Oh  no,  you  made  no  mistake,"  replied  the  trapper,  "  or  rather 
only  a  little  mistake.  You've  only  mistaken  a  bull-caribou  for  a 
double-barrelled  gun — that's  all." 

"  What  ?"  exclaimed  Harry.  "  I  heard  it  too.  You  don't  really 
mean  to  say  that  a  caribou  made  that  noise?  Oh,  you're  joking 
us!" 

"  No,  I'm  not.  That  was  really  the  call  of  a  bull-caribou.  Every- 
body makes  the  same  mistake  when  they  hear  it  the  first  time,  and 
it's  always  hard  to  convince  them  it  is  a  mistake.  But  that's  the 
fact  all  the  same." 

"  We  haven't  anything  better  to  do,  Mr.  Dant,"  said  Dick.    "  Why 


HEAD   OF    A    BULL-CARIBOU. 


CARIBOU.  249 

can't  you  tell  us  something  about  caribou  ?  There's  nothing  I  should 
like  better." 

u  Nor  I  either,1'  said  Harry. 

"  All  right ;  I'd  just  as  lief.  The  first  thing  is,  naturally,  how 
it  looks.  A  full-grown  bull  may  stand  five  feet  high  at  the  fore- 
shoulder,  and  weigh  possibly  seven  hundred  pounds.  They  are  al- 
ways white  underneath  and  on  the  throat.  Elsewhere  they  are  red- 
dish-brown in  summer,  mouse-color  in  the  fall,  growing  grayer  as 
the  winter  advances,  until  the  older  bulls  may  be  nearly  white.  In 
size,  color,  form,  and  general  appearance  the  head  looks  a  good  deal 
like  that  of  an  Alderney  cow,  and  if  that  cow  was  rather  lightly 
built  it  wouldn't  give  a  bad  idea  of  the  shape  of  a  caribou.  The 
horns  are  in  the  reindeer  style,  and  in  queerness  are  of  a  piece  with 
the  disposition  of  the  animal.  Not  only  are  the  horns  never  alike 
on  any  two  different  caribou,  but  the  right  and  left  horn  of  the 
same  animal  always  differ  m  shape.  The  older  cows  occasionally 
have  horns,  though  quite  small ;  and,  as  far  as  I  know,  are  the  only 
kind  of  doe  deer  that  ever  do  have  horns. 

"  The  winter  coat  of  the  caribou  is  very  soft,  and  so  thick  that 
it  is  impossible  to  work  the  fingers  through  the  hair  to  the  skin  be- 
neath. Its  legs  are  slender,  deer-shaped,  and  handsome,  but  they 
end  in  hoofs  out  of  all  proportion  in  size.  These  hoofs  are  quite 
low,  measured  from  the  ground  up  to  where  the  hair  begins,  but 
taken  across  the  bottom  parallel  with  the  ground,  they  are  almost 
as  big  as  a  saucer.  It's  a  good  deal  like  a  five-year-old  boy  standing 
in  his  father's  slippers.  Their  hoofs  are  hollow  underneath  and 
quite  sharp  on  the  edges,  so  that  a  caribou  can  keep  its  footing  on 
slippery  ice  or  logs  like  a  goat.  Its  dew-claws  are  as  large  as  an 
ordinary  deer's  hoof,  and  are  not  for  ornament  but  practical  use. 
When  passing  over  snow  or  treacherous  ground,  the  caribou  spreads 
out  its  deeply  cloven  hoof  like  a  duck's  foot,  and  bringing  its  dew- 
claws  into  play  to  increase  its  bearing,  it  skims  at  full  speed  over  a 
surface  which  would  stall  a  moose  or  a  deer  at  once. 

"Unlike  the  selfish  and  solitary  moose,  the  caribou  loves  the 
company  of  its  kind.  To-day  it  will  act  as  if  almost  afraid  of  its 
own  shadow,  and  show  a  keenness  of  eye,  ear,  and  nose  which  makes 
I6—2 


250  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

an  approach  to  within  rifle-shot  next  to  impossible.  To-morrow  it 
will  stand  fire  like  a  veteran  soldier,  and  face  the  hunter  with  a 
stupid  stare,  while  he  misses  shot  after  shot  in  his  anxiety  to  take 
advantage  of  his  opportunity.  To-day  it  will  follow^  for  miles  along 
a  trail  after  a  man,  as  if  it  wanted  to  catch  up  with  him  and  give 
him  a  message.  To-morrow,  one  sniff  of  the  tainted  track,  and  it 
will  not  break  its  run  for  five  miles. 

"  It  never  yards  in  winter,  like  the  moose  and  deer,  nor  has  it 
their  fondness  for  a  particular  locality.  It  is  as  likely  to  be  found 
on  the  tops  and  sides  of  the  loftiest  mountains  as  in  the  deepest 
valleys,  with  no  other  apparent  reason  to  guide  it  than  the  whim 
of  the  moment.  It  has  a  most  happy-go-lucky  disposition,  taking 
the  future  as  it  comes,  without  a  thought  whether  the  sky  is  going 
to  fall  or  not  until  the  pieces  begin  to  clatter  about  its  ears.  It 
will  venture,  without  the  slightest  hesitation,  on  ice  or  on  to  a  bog 
unfit  to  bear  a  man,  break  through,  splash  and  wallow  about  in  the 
most  reckless  fashion,  and  finally  when  it  reaches  the  bank  give 
itself  a  shake,  and  look  about  with  the  air  of  a  circus  performer 
who  has  just  jumped  over  six  elephants  and  is  wraiting  for  the 
applause  of  the  audience. 

"  It's  as  fond  of  the  ice  as  a  school-boy,  and  full  as  ready  for  a 
frolic.  After  the  ice  has  formed  in  November  it  is  soon  covered 
with  snow ;  then  comes  rain,  turning  the  snow  into  slush  resting  on 
the  firm  ice  underneath.  Now,  any  sensible  creature  would  keep 
away  from  such  a  mess  if  it  could,  but  to  the  caribou  this  is  just  the 
time  and  place  for  a  picnic.  The  herd  goes  out  on  the  ice  in  single 
file,  then  scatters,  and  each  one  falls  to  pawing  up  the  slush  with 
its  fore-feet.  When  this  ceases  to  be  fun,  they  fall  on  their  knees 
and  seem  to  lap  the  ice  with  their  tongues.  Why  they  do  it  beats 
me.  It  can't  be  from  thirst,  because  they  have  crossed  a  dozen  open 
brooks  in  their  morning  ramble ;  and  besides,  they  couldn't  every 
one  of  them  be  suddenly  taken  so  dry  all  at  once.  It's  a  queer 
creature,  is  the  caribou.  I've  known  it  now  for  a  good  many  years. 
You  get  to  the  bottom  of  the  tricks  of  a  deer  or  a  moose  after  a 
while,  but  a  caribou  has  always  a  fresh  surprise  in  stock. 

"  But  to  come  back  to  the  ice.     After  a  while  one  will  suspend 


A   CARIBOU   PICNIC. 


251 


operations,  rise  to  its  feet,  seem  to  think  things  over  generally  for  a 
while,  then  go  solemnly  over  to  where  another  has  mined  down  to  a 
piece  of  ice  of  extra  flavor,  and  prod  and  poke  its  comrade  with  the 
utmost  vigor.  The  assaulted  caribou  rises  to  its  feet  and  meekly  re- 
signs its  place  to  the  animal  that  has  attacked  it,  which  at  once  drops 


HEAD   OF    A   COW-CAKIBOU. 


on  its  knees  and  continues  the  operations  of  the  one  it  has  driven 
away ;  while  the  ousted  animal  either  passes  along  the  compliment 
to  some  other  which  it  thinks  it  can  bully,  or  digs  a  fresh  place  for 
itself.  Then  perhaps  all  will  lie  down  for  a  while,  though  one 
would  think  such  a  bed  was  about  as  comfortable  as  the  inside  of 


252  CITY   BOYS   IN  THE    WOODS. 

an  ice-cream  freezer,  and  chew  the  cud,  apparently  as  happy  as  you 
please.  Next,  one  will  slowly  rise  to  its  feet,  round  up  its  back,  and 
stretch  itself,  look  its  comrades  over  until  it  picks  out  the  one  that 
seems  most  comfortable,  and  then,  like  those  fellows  that  are  so 
fond  of  early  rising  when  there  is  no  occasion  for  it,  proceed  to 
kick  and  punch  it  until  it  also  gets  on  its  legs  and  joins  in  the  game. 
Soon  all  are  on  their  feet,  and  falling  in  one  behind  the  other  in 
single  file,  they  start  for  the  woods,  headed  by  a  leader,  which  is 
always  a  bull,  but  not  necessarily  the  biggest  in  the  herd. 

"  They  move  off  at  a  walk,  their  heads  hanging  down,  just  like 
a  lot  of  cows  driven  to  pasture.  Suddenly  one  will  become  pos- 
sessed of  a  devil,  and  breaking  from  the  ranks  with  a  hop,  skip,  and 
a  jump,  charge  through  the  line  again  and  again  until  it  is  thrown 
into  complete  disorder.  Then  it  will  as  suddenly  fall  into  place 
again  as  demure  as  a  cat,  as  though  it  was  just  the  last  caribou  in 
the  world  to  kick  up  a  row.  Then  they  will  begin  to  move  off  as 
before.  It  may  be  they  will  disappear  into  the  woods  on  the  meek- 
est kind  of  a  walk ;  or,  without  the  slightest  apparent  cause,  the 
whole  herd  will  break  into  a  run  at  a  pace  so  keen  you  almost  fancy 
you  can  hear  them  whiz  through  the  air.  This  burst  of  speed  may 
last  for  a  hundred  yards;  it  may  be  kept  up  through  thick  and 
thin  for  five  miles ;  one  is  about  as  likely  as  the  other.  But  I  guess 
I'm  spinning  the  thing  out  rather  too  fine.  To  me  a  caribou  is  the 
most  interesting  animal  that  ranges  these  woods.  I've  watched 
them  when  they  have  been  under  the  muzzle  of  my  rifle  by  the 
hour,  so  interested  in  their  pranks  that  I  couldn't  find  the  heart  to 
fire.     But  I'll  get  over  the  ground  quicker  after  this." 

"Oh  no,  don't  do  anything  of  the  kind,"  said  Dick.  "We 
haven't  anything  else  to  do,  so  there's  no  hurry.  You  can't  be  too 
long  to  please  me.  Before  we  came  up  here  I  read  all  I  could  get 
hold  of  on  the  caribou,  but  I  didn't  find  anything  of  this  kind.  I 
didn't  feel  as  if  I  got  acquainted  with  the  animal  at  all  from  what  I 
read ;  but  from  what  you  tell  me,  it  seems  almost  as  if  I  could  see 
it.  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  tiring  me,  that  you  can  be  sure  of. 
What  do  you  say,  Harry  ?" 

"I  say  so  too.     These  are  just  the  things  that  interest  me.     I 


A  THIRST   FOR  BLOOD. 


253 


read  the  same  books,  but  they  didn't  go  into  the  things  that  you  tell 
us  at  all.  So  do  go  on,  and  spin  it  out  as  thin  as  you  can ;  the  thin- 
ner the  better." 

"  People  who  write  books  on  these  subjects,"  said  the  trapper, 
"  are  not  likely  to  hit  on  this  kind  of  thing.  When  most  men  go 
into  the  woods  they  seem  to  be  just  devoured  with  a  thirst  for 
blood.     If  they  get  a  chance  to  kill  anything,  they  can't  rest  quiet 


A&TiteST, 


M 


CARIBOU   ON  THE   ICE. 


for  half  a  second  till  they  have  fired,  for  fear  they'll  lose  it.  I  used 
to  be  so  myself ;  but  I  found  out  after  a  while  that  it  paid  a  great 
deal  better  to  watch  an  animal  when  I  had  the  chance — and  those 
chances  don't  come  very  often — and  learn  its  habits,  than  to  kill  it 
off-hand.  Many  and  many  a  trick  in  trapping  and  hunting  have  I 
found  out  that  way  which  I  never  would  have  dreamed  of  other- 
wise.    But  if  you  really  wish  it,  I  will  go  on  as  I  have  begun.     I 


254  CITY   BOYS   IN  THE   WOODS. 

like  to  talk  of  these  things  as  well  as  any  one  to  a  person  who  cares 
to  listen,  but  I  don't  want  to  bore  you." 

"  There's  no  danger  of  hurting  us  that  way,  so  please  go  on ;" 
replied  Dick. 

"  All  right,  the  risk  is  yours !"  replied  the  trapper,  and  continued 
as  follows : 

"  When  a  caribou-hunter  dreams  that  he  has  a  soft  thing  on  the 
caribou,  he  always  fancies  he  has  caught  them  at  their  tricks  on  the 
ice.  "When  the  season  is  right,  he  always  approaches  every  little 
patch  of  water,  or  rather  ice,  against  the  wind,  and  feeling  as  though 
he  was  just  going  to  try  for  a  prize  in  a  grab-bag  at  a  church  fair. 
If  he  is  in  luck,  and  finds  caribou  on  the  ice,  and  understands  what 
he  is  about,  he  doesn't  begin  operations  at  once.  In  all  serious  busi- 
ness the  herd  takes  its  impulse  from  its  leader,  just  as  a  steam-en- 
gine is  controlled  by  its  engineer.  He  is  the  brains  that  does  all 
the  thinking  and  planning  for  the  herd.  Kill  him,  and  though  the 
power  to  do  is  still  there,  that  which  decided  what  should  be  done 
is  gone.  It  doesn't  take  very  long  for  an  experienced  man  to  pick 
out  the  caribou  that  is  in  command  and  drop  him.  Instantly  every- 
thing is  in  confusion.  The  herd  circle  around  their  fallen  leader 
totally  at  a  loss  what  to  do,  until  some  other  takes  his  place  and  all 
break  for  the  shelter  of  the  woods.  If  the  hunter  is  then  a  quick 
and  sure  shot,  he  may  take  pretty  heavy  toll  out  of  the  herd  before 
it  gains  cover. 

"  But  if  the  pond  is  small  and  closely  surrounded  by  hills  and 
thick  woods,  the  first  shot  echoes  from  the  opposite  side  and  keeps 
echoing  first  from  one  place  and  then  from  another,  until  it  would 
puzzle  any  one  who  didn't  know  to  tell  where  the  real  shot  came 
from.  To  the  caribou  it  seems  as  if  every  way  of  escape  into  the 
woods  was  cut  off.  They  circle  around  utterly  demoralized,  swing- 
ing their  heads  from  side  to  side,  snuffing  the  air,  and  doing  their 
best  to  scent  out  the  direction  of  the  danger.  If  the  rifle  is  in  the 
hands  of  a  butcher,  every  caribou  may  fall  before,  driven  by  despe- 
ration to  take  any  chance  for  the  sake  of  cover,  one  breaks  for  the 
woods.  The  rest,  if  any,  follow  at  once,  and  not  until  after  many 
a  mile  will  the}7  slacken  their  pace  to  a  walk. 


SPEED   OF    THE    CARIBOU.  257 

"  When  a  deer  or  a  moose  meets  a  windfall,  it  either  goes  round 
or  jumps  over  it  if  too  high  to  step  over.  But  a  caribou,  if  undis- 
turbed, mounts  the  fallen  trees  and  walks  along  their  trunks,  jump- 
ing from  one  to  another  as  if  it  had  been  brought  up  in  a  circus. 

"  Caribou-meat,  though  not  quite  up  to  moose-meat,  is  a  good 
deal  better  than  venison.  How  it's  ever  made  out  of  the  kind  of 
stuff  they  feed  on  beats  me.  In  the  summer  it's  not  so  bad,  the 
blue-joint,  flat  grass,  and  that  which  trails  in  the  current  of  running 
streams,  and  the  three-leaf  sorrel,  then  form  its  food.  The  sorrel, 
though,  only  seems  to  be  eaten  when  it  grows  alongside  of  some 
cold  spring  or  boggy  place  in  the  woods.  But  its  winter  food  is 
about  as  tempting  as  a  hair  mattress.  As  the  weather  grows  colder 
it  turns  to  that  grayish  moss  which  hangs  like  an  old  man's  beard 
from  fir  and  spruce  trees.  This  and  a  short  thick  moss  which  grows 
on  the  bark  of  old-growth  yellow  birch-trees  then  form  its  food  ; 
and  with  the  moss  it  will  bolt  chunks  of  yellow  birch  bark  as  big  as 
a  silver  dollar.  I've  heard  that  in  some  places  they  paw  away  the 
snow  in  winter  and  hunt  for  their  food  on  the  ground,  but  I  never 
saw  any  signs  of  their  doing  it  here. 

kk  If  there  were  to  be  a  grand  race  of  all  the  four-footed  creatures 
of  the  earth  that  can  run,  I'd  bet  my  money  on  the  caribou  every 
time.  In  comparison,  a  deer  or  moose  is  nowhere  in  point  of  speed. 
With  its  back  almost  level,  each  leg  swinging  as  if  it  were  hung  on  a 
pivot,  its  hoofs  clattering  together  at  every  stride,  a  caribou  will  get 
over  the  ground  at  a  rate  that'll  make  a  man  stare  if  there's  any 
stare  in  him. 

"  Some  years  ago,  when  I  didn't  know  as  much  about  caribou  as 
I  do  now,  I  was  returning  from  one  of  my  trapping-lines  above  the 
lake.  When  trapping,  a  man  has  to  take  so  much  in  his  pack,  and 
has  to  stop  to  use  his  axe  and  hands  so  often,  that  a  rifle  can't  be 
carried  very  conveniently,  and  that's  the  way  I  had  been  travelling. 
I  used  to  get  sort  of  lonely  then  at  times,  not  having  a  soul  to  speak 
to  all  through  the  long  winter,  so  I  had  a  big,  long-legged  dog  for 
company.  I  don't  know  what  kind  of  a  dog  it  was,  but  it  was 
shaped  a  good  deal  like  a  greyhound,  only  much  heavier  and  stout- 
er, and  had  stiffish  yellow  hair  about  half-way  in  length  between  a 
17 


258  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

smooth-haired  and  a  Newfoundland  dog.  Some  people  called  it  a 
wolf-hound,  but  I  don't  really  know  what  it  was.  The  way  that 
dog  could  get  over  the  ground  when  he  chose  to  was  a  sight  to  see. 
He  had  pulled  down  a  full-grown  buck  in  less  than  a  mile  in  fair 
open  running  for  both.  I  never  used  to  let  him  run  game,  though, 
if  I  could  help  it,  because  I  never  believed  in  it. 

••  Well,  I  hit  the  lake  up  near  its  head.  As  usual,  and  more  from 
habit  than  anything  else,  I  took  a  look  over  the  lake  before  I  left 
the  cover  of  the  woods.  What  should  I  see  but  three  caribou  play- 
ing on  the  ice  just  below  the  islands !  By  taking  back  through  the 
woods  a  little  way  I  could  put  the  islands  between  them  and  me, 
and  so  get  very  near  them,  as  the  wind  was  all  right.  The  notion 
struck  me  all  of  a  sudden  that  that  was  the  time  to  try  how  fast 
caribou  could  really  travel.  Coming  on  them  so  sudden.  I  thought 
they'd  most  likely  make  straight  away  from  us  towards  the  foot  of 
the  lake.  That  would  give  us  a  good  clear  course  of  a  little  more 
than  a  mile  and  a  half.  The  ice  was  covered  with  just  a  little  crust 
of  hard  snow.  In  short,  things  could  hardly  be  better  for  all  hands 
— for  me,  for  the  dog,  and  for  the  caribou  ;  we  all  had  a  fair  chance 
to  do  our  level  best. 

"  Well,  we — that  is,  the  dog  and  I — got  behind  the  islands  and 
began  to  sneak  up  on  them.  Before  long  the  dog  smelled  them,  and 
began  to  look  up  at  me  mighty  anxious  and  give  a  little  whimper 
once  in  a  while.  I  shook  my  hst  at  hi  in,  a  sign  he  understood  well 
enough  to  mean  that  he  must  keep  quiet ;  though,  to  make  sure  he 
wouldn't  go  off  half-cocked,  I  grabbed  him  by  the  collar  when  we 
began  to  get  pretty  near.  When  we  came  round  the  lower  point  of 
the  last  island,  there  were  those  caribou  not  twenty  yards  from  us. 
I  then  let  the  dog  go  and  sung  out  to  him  to  take  them.  The  dog 
by  this  time  was  just  crazy  for  it.  All  he  wanted  was  the  chance, 
and  he  stretched  his  long  legs  out  over  that  ice  the  best  he  knew. 
The  caribou,  as  they  always  do  when  suddenly  alarmed,  swung 
round  at  once  towards  the  noise  to  see  what  the  trouble  was ;  and, 
before  they  had  made  up  their  minds  that  it  was  time  to  be  up  and 
doing,  the  dog  had  almost  closed  the  gap.  For  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  or  so  it  was  nip  and  tuck,  the  dog  not  over  two  or  three  yards 


A  CARIBOU   CHASE.  259 

behind  and  straining  his  best  to  close  on  them.  Then  the  caribou 
seemed  first  to  call  on  their  reserve  powers  and  give  up  trifling. 
They  went  so  fast  you  could  almost  hear  them  hum  through  the  air 
clear  back  where  I  was.  When  they  disappeared  in  the  woods  the 
dog  was  not  half-way  to  the  foot  of  the  lake. 

"  As  for  the  dog,  it  pretty  near  broke  his  heart.  He  came  back 
when  I  called  him  with  his  tail  down,  and  slunk  round  behind  me, 
looking  up  sort  of  side  wise  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  as  he  went 
by,  as  if  he  were  afraid  I'd  disown  him.  You  never  saw  such  a  sick- 
looking  dog  that  hadn't  anything  the  matter  with  him  except  that 
he'd  lost  his  self-respect. 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't  like  it  any  too  well  myself.  I  didn't 
want  the  caribou,  as  I  had  plenty  of  meat.  I'd  rather  expected 
they'd  beat  the  dog,  but  it  never  entered  my  head  that  they'd  dis- 
tance him  that  way.  It  kept  worrying  me  for  some  time.  Finally 
I  concluded  that  that  ice  was  prime  travelling  for  caribou,  and  that 
it  was  their  day ;  but  that  when  March  came  and  the  snow  was 
deep  and  crusted,  I'd  give  them  a  breather  that  would  put  the  laugh 
on  the  other  side.  I  thought  I  was  some  at  snow-shoeing  then,  for 
I'd  beaten  in  every  race  I'd  ever  tried. 

"  March  came.  The  snow  couldn't  be  better  for  my  purpose  if  I 
had  it  made  to  order.  It  was  nearly  six  feet  deep  on  the  level, 
hard  on  the  surface  and  soft  underneath,  with  just  about  an  inch  of 
light  snow  over  the  top.  I  couldn't  ask  for  better  travelling  for 
myself,  or  worse  for  any  animal  as  heavy  as  a  caribou.  I  had  been 
over  to  the  Little  Eiver  looking  after  some  traps,  and  on  my  way 
back  chanced  on  five  caribou  lying  down.  They  were  on  their  feet 
in  an  instant,  facing  me  not  thirty  yards  off.  I  happened  to  have 
my  rifle  with  me  that  time,  and  could  have  dropped  one  or  two  of 
them  easy;  but  that  was  not  my  game.  I  was  going  to  avenge 
that  dog's  wrongs  if  it  was  in  my  skin,  and  I  rather  thought  it  was. 
In  a  second  my  pack,  rifle,  axe,  and  everything  else  that  could  hold 
me  back  was  on  the  snow,  and  I  was  at  them.  I  had  no  idea  of  kill- 
ing any  of  them,  but  I  did  intend  to  run  them  until  they  were  sick 
enough  of  it  to  come  to  a  stand ;  and  I  didn't  think  it  was  going  to 
take  so  very  long  either. 


260  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

"  Of  course  they  distanced  me  at  first,  but  that  I  had  expected ; 
even  a  deer  could  have  done  that,  and  I  knew  well  enough  that  to 
run  a  deer  and  a  caribou  to  a  stand  were  two  very  different  things. 
A  mile  was  passed  and  I  hadn't  seen  hide  nor  hair  of  them.  An- 
other mile  was  run,  yet  there  was  nothing  bat  the  track  I  followed 
to  show  they  were  ahead  of  me.  I  noticed  that  they  didn't  slump 
anything  like  what  a  moose  would  have  done.  Another  thing,  too, 
looked  rather  dubious :  I  couldn't  see  a  sign  that  they  were  dis- 
tressed in  the  least — such  as  froth  lying  near  the  trail,  or  places 
where  they  had  snatched  a  mouthful  of  snow  as  they  ran.  It  was 
certainly  time  for  some  such  sign.  I  began  to  think  that  perhaps  I 
had  undertaken  something  more  of  a  contract  than  I  had  expected ; 
but  I  was  in  for  it  now,  and  my  mad  began  to  rise.  For  the  next 
mile  I  put  in  the  very  best  licks  I  knew.  At  its  end  I  began  to 
feel  as  if  I  had  done  something  like  a  day's  work.  But  as  for  the 
caribou,  as  far  as  their  trail  showed,  they  were  dusting  along  at  just 
about  the  same  gait  they  had  started  with,  without  a  sign  of  flag- 
ging. I  could  hardly  believe  my  eyes,  and  thought  I  must  have 
passed  some  signs  of  distress  in  my  hurry  without  noticing  them. 
It  was  too  great  a  come  down  to  admit  that  a  four-footed  animal  of 
hundreds  of  pounds  in  weight  lived  which  I  couldn't  run  down  on 
snow-shoes  in  such  heavy  snow. 

u  While  these  things  were  passing  through  my  mind  I  hadn't 
let  up  any  in  my  efforts.  Just  then  the  trail  took  a  bend  and  head- 
ed for  the  river.  Now,  thinks  I,  I've  got  'em.  I  hardly  thought 
they  would  change  direction  again,  and  if  they  kept  that  course 
they  would  hit  the  river  at  the  rapids.  The  cold  up  here  in  the 
winter  is  so  savage  that  even  on  the  rapids  the  water  thickens  like 
porridge  and  chokes  the  current,  and  solid  ice  begins  to  form  along 
the  edges  and  in  the  eddies.  This  backs  up  the  water,  which  rises 
and  rises  until  the  pressure  is  too  much  for  the  ice.  The  water  then 
begins  to  run  under  the  ice,  and  cuts  away  at  its  foundations  with 
all  the  force  of  a  spring  freshet.  At  last  the  whole  mass  breaks 
down  into  the  current  and  is  swept  away.  This  leaves  on  each  bank 
a  border  of  ice  with  a  straight  up  and  down  face.  The  ice  at  once 
begins  to  form  again  in  the  same  way,  and  the  same  thing  happens 


STILL   HUNTING   CARIBOU.  261 

again  and  again,  all  the  time  building  the  perpendicular  ice-banks 
higher  and  higher.  Now,  I  knew  this  had  been  going  on  for  months 
and  had  been  increased  by  every  fall  of  snow,  until  the  river  was 
running  between  perpendicular  banks  of  ice  and  frozen  snow  at 
least  eight  feet  high.  Towards  this  the  caribou  were  going,  and 
there,  headed  by  such  an  obstacle  and  tired  by  their  efforts,  I  felt 
sure  they  must  come  to  a  stand. 

"  I  pushed  on  as  fast  as  I  could.  At  last  I  reached  the  river. 
There  was  the  ice-wall  on  both  banks  as  straight  up  and  down  as 
the  side  of  a  house.  No  man  without  a  ladder  or  cutting  a  way 
with  an  axe  could  have  got  down,  much  less  climb  up  on  the  other 
side ;  while  between  them  the  icy  water  was  roaring  over  the  rocks 
some  three  or  four  feet  deep.  I  looked  around  for  the  caribou. 
The  trail  led  straight  to  the  bank.  Down  that  ice-wall  they  had 
gone,  and  up  the  other  side,  with  hardly  a  break  in  their  speed. 
Then  I  knew  I  was  beaten;  and  when  I  pulled  off  my  mitten  and 
felt  of  the  tracks  in  the  snow  to  see  how  long  they  had  been  made, 
I  declare  they  seemed  older  than  all  the  time  I  had  been  running 
them.  Since  then  I  have  believed  that  no  man  has  any  business 
running  caribou  on  snow-shoes,  or  in  any  other  way  for  that  matter, 
unless  with  an  express  engine  ;  and  then  he  has  got  to  shovel  in  the 
coal  mighty  lively. 

"  There,  will  that  do  you  ?" 

"  You  haven't  told  us  how  you  hunt  caribou  except  on  the  ice," 
replied  Harry.     "  Tell  us  about  that." 

"  Before  the  snow  comes  we  occasionally  get  one  under  a  jack, 
just  as  we  got  the  moose.  My  way  is  to  go  dark,  as  we  did,  for 
though  sometimes  a  caribou  will  stand  to  an  open  light,  oftener  it 
will  not. 

"  The  best  time  is  when  about  three  or  four  inches  of  snow  lie  in 
the  woods.  Then's  the  time  for  still  hunting.  While  trapping,  the 
hunter  has  kept  track  of  where  the  caribou  are  working.  He  puts 
on  three  or  four  heavy  woollen  shirts,  one  over  the  other,  for  a 
coat  would  catch  in  the  bushes  through  which  he  must  pass,  and 
that  wouldn't  do  at  all.  He  wears  a  very  broad  -  brimmed  felt 
hat  to  keep  the  snow  he  will  shake  down  on  him  out  of  the  back 
17* 


262  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE    WOODS. 

of  his  neck ;  for  among  the  thickest  firs  and  spruces,  where  the  long 
gray  moss  hangs,  is  the  place  where  he  must  look  for  his  game. 
Four  or  five  pairs  of  heavy  woollen  socks  cover  his  feet,  and  over 
them  is  placed  a  pair  of  caribou-shanks.  Whenever  we  get  a  cari- 
bou we  take  the  skin  from  the  hind-legs,  cutting  it  about  four  or 
five  inches  above  the  gambrel  joint,  then  splitting  it  open  in  front, 
and  removing  it  clear  to  the  hoof.  The  gambrel  joint  forms  the 
heel  of  a  stocking,  which  is  made  by  doubling  the  extra  length  of 
hide  over  the  hunter's  toes  and  back  towards  his  instep.  This  is 
then  sewed  on  both  sides  where  the  sole  of  an  ordinary  shoe  joins 
the  upper ;  and  these,  worn  with  the  hair  outside,  are  caribou-shanks. 
Boots  or  shoes  are  too  noisy  to  be  thought  of.  He  puts  in  his  pock- 
ets food  for  one  meal,  knowing  that  he  will  start  his  game  soon. 
Then  he  will  either  be  successful,  or  he  might  just  as  well  go  back 
to  camp ;  for  when  a  caribou  is  once  wound  up  by  alarm  it  takes  so 
long  to  run  down  that  it's  useless  to  follow  it. 

"  He  then  takes  his  rifle,  puts  a  hatchet  in  his  belt,  and  is  off. 
He  soon  finds  plenty  of  tracks,  if  he  is  not  out  in  the  notion  of  about 
where  the  caribou  are  working.  The  age  of  these  tracks  is  the  first 
thing  to  be  settled.  If  it  is  still  snowing,  the  quantity  of  snow 
which  has  fallen  over  them  will  tell  the  story.  If  it  has  not  snowed 
since  the  tracks  were  made,  and  the  tracks  are  over  a  day  old,  little 
frost-needles  will  be  seen  in  the  footprint ;  but  if  made  the  night 
before  or  since,  none  of  these  frost-needles  will  be  found.  He  then 
takes  off  his  mitten  and  feels  whether  the  snow  thrown  up  by  the 
tracks  is  loose  or  frozen.  If  loose,  the  track  is  fresh  ;  if  frozen,  it  is 
two  or  three  hours  old.  These  are  the  leading  signs,  but  still  there 
are  a  good  many  others,  all  of  which  are  studied,  and  from  them  a 
good  hunter  learns  pretty  much  all  there  is  to  learn  about  the  herd, 
except  where  they  are  and  how  many  animals  are  in  it.  At  last  a 
pretty  recent  track  is  found  and  followed.  While  he  is  following  it 
he  keeps  both  eyes  wide  open  for  signs  of  feeding.  When  travel- 
ling, caribou,  like  all  other  heavy  animals  in  a  wooded  country, 
follow  in  single  file,  each  one  stepping  pretty  much  in  the  tracks  of 
that  ahead  of  it.  This  makes  it  very  hard  to  tell  how  large  a  herd 
is,  or  how  it's  made  up,  when  they  are  moving.     But  when  they 


RETURN   FROM   CARIBOU-HUNTING. 


STILL   HUNTING   CARIBOU.  265 

begin  to  feed  they  scatter,  and  each  one  writes  its  own  description 
on  the  snow.  So  the  hunter  studies  this  mighty  close ;  for  besides 
learning  how  many  animals  he  has  before  him,  he  must  find  how 
much  the  herd  has  fed  and  how  much  more  it  is  likely  to  feed. 
When  they  have  eaten  enough  he  knows  they  will  lie  down.  They 
may  snatch  a  bite  here  and  there,  and  move  on.  But  sooner  or 
later  they  will  scatter  and  make  eating  a  business.  From  these 
signs  and  others  he  judges  how  near  he  is  to  them.  When  he  thinks 
they  have  eaten  enough  and  will  soon  lie  down,  he  overhauls  his 
rifle,  gets  the  snow  out  of  the  muzzle,  cocks  and  uncocks  it  three  or 
four  times,  works  the  breech  mechanism,  and  generally  sees  that  all 
is  clear  for  action ;  for  the  many  falls  he  has  had  in  the  snow,  and 
the  quantity  he  has  shaken  down  from  the  trees,  have  covered  him 
again  and  again. 

"  He  then  creeps  forward,  all  eyes  and  ears,  avoiding  everything 
that  may  make  a  noise  as  though  it  were  a  hornet's  nest.  He  does 
not  need  to  pay  much  attention  to  the  wind,  for  among  the  thick 
evergreens  clogged  with  snow  it  is  almost  always  calm,  no  matter 
how  hard  it  blows  over  the  tree-tops.  Every  bush,  every  stump  or 
fallen  tree  in  sight,  is  examined  with  the  greatest  suspicion,  for  the 
snow  sticking  to  the  coats  of  the  caribou  makes  it  no  fool's  job  to 
distinguish  them  unless  in  motion.  It  is  of  course  impossible  to  help 
making  some  noise  once  in  a  while,  and  it  may  be  they  are  the 
first  to  find  out  what's  up.  Instantly  all  spring  to  their  feet  and 
face  him  —  generally,  if  he  has  been  careful,  at  some  twenty  or 
thirty  yards'  distance.  Now  is  the  time.  No  waiting  for  a  side 
shot,  but  draw  on  the  biggest,  and  give  it  to  him  right  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  chest  at  the  root  of  the  neck ;  for  if  the  hunter  waits, 
in  a  second  they  will  be  off  like  the  wind,  and  he  must  take  his 
chance  as  they  run  among  the  thick  trees.  If  the  herd  is  made 
up  of  two  bulls,  and  one  falls,  the  other  is  almost  sure  to  come  back 
inside  of  an  hour  or  so,  looking  for  his  companion ;  if  a  bull  and  a 
cow,  the  cow  will  not  return ;  while  if  a  large  herd  is  started,  it's 
every  one  for  itself. 

"  Having  secured  his  game,  the  hunter  at  once  builds  a  big  fire 
near  it,  and  begins  to  skin  and  dress  the  animal  before  it  has  time 


266 


CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 


to  freeze.  He  then  wraps  the  liver  and  tenderloin  in  the  hide,  tying 
them  up  with  a  strip  cut  from  the  edge  of  the  skin.  The  rest  of  the 
meat  he  hangs  on  the  trees,  and,  shouldering  his  bundle,  returns  to 
camp  for  his  sled.  On  his  way  to  camp,  about  seven  times  out  of 
ten,  he  amuses  himself  by  calling  himself  all  manner  of  hard  names 
for  making  the  mistake  he  has  so  often  made  before,  of  not  seeing 
his  game  before  it  was  in  motion,  even  while  it  was  under  his  very 
nose.  That's  the  way  I  still  hunt  them,  and  that  pretty  well  fin- 
ishes up  all  I  can  think  of  about  caribou  now." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Stormbound. — Plans  for  the  Future. — The  Trapper  comments  on  Life  in  the  Woods. 
— The  Boys  return  Home. 

DURING  the  continuance  of  the  storm  neither  pleasure  nor 
profit  was  to  be  had  out-of-doors.  All  day  long  the  rain 
streamed  down.  To  the  boys,  longing  to  be  in  the  open  air,  it 
was  a  weary  time.  Towards  evening  the  rain  ceased  at  last,  and  a 
change  of  wind  gave  hope  of  a  change  of  weather. 

The  trapper  busied  himself  about  the  camp  during  the  day ;  in 
the  afternoon  he  was  unusually  silent  and  thoughtful.  After  supper 
he  said : 

"  Boys,  I  am  afraid  this  storm  rather  knocks  our  plans  in  the 
head.  If  things  had  followed  their  usual  course,  we  would  have  had 
a  week  or  ten  days  more  of  good  weather,  ending  in  such  a  storm 


268  CITY  BOYS  IN  THE   WOODS. 

as  this.  In  this  hilly  country  such  a  heavy  fall  of  water  as  we  have 
had  floods  the  streams  and  bogs,  so  that  trapping  about  them  is  at 
a  stand-still  for  a  few  days.  I  had  planned  all  along  to  use  the  time 
while  the  water  was  dropping  to  its  natural  level  for  my  last  trip  to 
the  settlement.  I  am  behindhand  with  my  trapping  now,  and  it  will 
hardly  do  to  lose  any  more  time  on  top  of  that  already  lost.  I  am 
mighty  sorry,  but  we  ought  to  go  down-river  to-morrow." 

The  boys  heard  this  announcement  with  no  little  dismay.  Since 
they  had  fallen  into  the  trapper's  hands  they  had  lived  free  from 
care,  altogether  in  the  present.  "With  his  words  the  necessities  of  the 
future  arose  before  them,  and  what  was  that  future  to  be  ?  Their 
way  to  the  settlement,  with  the  aid  of  the  trapper,  lay  open ;  but 
there  the  store-keeper  must  be  met,  clamorous  to  be  paid  for  his  lost 
boat.  Then  it  was  many  miles  to  the  railroad.  True,  they  could 
walk  it  now  they  had  nothing  to  carry,  but  not  clothed  as  they 
were.  Then,  having  reached  the  railroad,  what  were  they  to  do 
without  one  cent  of  money  ?     The  outlook  was  indeed  gloomy. 

The  boys  looked  one  at  the  other,  in  silence  and  with  blank 
faces,  for  some  moments.     Then  Dick  said : 

"  You  mustn't  let  us  stand  in  your  way  for  one  minute,  Mr. 
Dant.  You've  made  it  so  pleasant  for  us  here  that  we  are  sorry 
to  part  from  you.  It  would  be  a  very  poor  return  for  your  kind- 
ness if  we  were  not.  But  it  had  to  come  sooner  or  later,  and  it 
is  plain  enough  that  to-morrow  ought  to  be  the  time.  What  do 
you  say,  Harry?" 

"  Of  course  we  must  go  to-morrow,  whether  we  like  it  or  not," 
replied  Harry.  "  Mr.  Dant  must  visit  the  settlement  before  the  river 
freezes  up ;  and  it  is  better  for  him  to  go  now,  when  he  can  do 
nothing  else  and  has  the  time  to  spare,  than  later,  when  he  would 
have  to  lose  the  time  from  his  trapping.  We've  put  him  to  too 
much  inconvenience  already ;  we  mustn't  think  of  increasing  it." 

"  If  it  wasn't  really  necessary,  boys,  I  shouldn't  have  spoken  of 
it,"  said  the  trapper.  "  I've  been  thinking  it  over  all  day,  and  can't 
see  any  way  out  of  it.  It  is  either  use  waste  time  now  or  steal  val- 
uable time  by-and-by.  Much  as  I  hate  to  break  up,  I  am  afraid  that 
there  is  no  help  for  it :  so  we  will  consider  that  settled.     There  is 


M 


i% 


mm 


x    ' 


THE   TRAPPER'S   COMMENTS.  271 

another  thing  I've  been  considering  too,  and  that  is,  what  you  are 
to  do  after  you  reach  the  settlement.  I've  planned  it  this  way,  if 
it  suits  you :  When  we  get  there,  I  will  see  the  store-keeper  about 
his  boat  the  first  thing.  He  wanted  to  sell  it  to  me  a  while  ago, 
but  I  wouldn't  buy  it.  I  have  changed  my  mind  now,  as  it's  up 
here.  I  shall  keep  his  boat  and  bring  you  down  in  mine.  That'll 
fix  that  matter  without  any  trouble.  Then  I'll  get  a  team  to  take 
us  to  the  railroad,  as  I  have  business  there.  What  clothes  you  need 
to  take  you  home  can  be  had  near  the  depot.  I  will  see  you  have 
your  railroad  tickets  too.  I  think  that'll  fix  things  as  they  should 
be.     How  does  it  strike  you  ?" 

"  If  we  talked  till  Christmas  -  time  we  could  not  thank  you 
enough,  Mr.  Dant,  for  what  you  have  already  done,"  replied  Dick. 
"  All  we  can  do  now  is  to  thank  you  again  for  what  you  propose  to 
do.     What  would  we  have  done  without  you  ?" 

"  We  couldn't  have  done  anything  except  starve  to  death,"  said 
Harry.  "  But  we  shall  never  forget  your  kindness,  Mr.  Dant,  nor 
will  our  parents  forget  it  either,  I  know ;  and  they  will  repay  you 
every  cent  of  expense  you  are  at  on  our  account." 

"  Oh,  I  am  satisfied  well  enough  I  sha'n't  lose  anything  by  you," 
replied  the  trapper.  "  I've  seen  enough  of  you  to  know  you  are  not 
the  kind  to  take  advantage  of  me.  I  have  the  money  to  spare  and 
have  no  use  at  all  for  it  till  spring,  and  so  can  fix  you  out  just  as 
well  as  not.  There !  we'll  call  our  arrangements  all  complete,  and 
think  and  talk  of  something  else. 

"I've  a  word  or  two  on  my  mind  and  I  have  been  thinking 
whether  I'd  better  say  it  to  you  or  not.  It  may  not  be  necessary, 
but  it  will  do  no  harm  anyway,  so  here  goes. 

"  I  suppose  it's  no  use  now  to  tell  you  that  in  coming  up  here 
in  the  hope  of  making  anything  at  hunting  or  trapping,  you  did 
a  mighty  foolish  thing.  You've  found  that  out  for  yourselves. 
There !  you  needn't  look  so  cheap  about  it.  Lots  of  city  boys  do 
the  same.  They  get  their  heads  stuffed  full  of  nonsense  about 
the  woods,  out  of  books  which  give  about  as  true  an  idea  of  woods 
life  as  they  do  of  life  in  the  middle  of  China,  and  not  much  more. 
To  read  them  you'd  think  that  up  here  it  was  just  one  continual 


272  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE   WOODS. 

picnic,  where  the  weather  and  everything  else  could  be  ordered 
beforehand  to  suit,  and  where  the  main  ambition  of  game  was  to 
give  greenhorns  a  chance  to  shoot  it.  The  truth  is  it's  a  very 
rough  life  even  to  those  brought  up  to  it,  with  hard  work  in  plenty, 
and  fun,  except  such  as  can  be  found  in  hard  work,  mighty  scatter- 
ing. You'd  think  a  man  a  fool  who  tried  to  sail  a  vessel  across  the 
ocean  with  no  one  aboard  who  had  ever  sailed  a  boat  before.  But 
it's  just  the  same  thing  in  the  woods.  Life  in  the  woods  is  a  life  by 
itself,  as  much  as  life  at  sea  is  a  life  by  itself.  It's  different  from 
any  other  kind  of  a  life. 

"  If  a  person  puts  the  muzzle  of  a  loaded  rifle  in  his  mouth  and 
pulls  the  trigger,  off  goes  his  head  whether  he  knew  it  was  loaded 
or  not.  It's  just  so  in  the  woods.  A  man  must  look  out  for  him- 
self. He  must  know  what  should  be  done  under  all  circumstances 
and  do  it,  and  what  ought  not  to  be  clone  and  never  do  it,  or  take 
the  consequences ;  and  there's  no  dodging  them  either. 

"  And  how  is  a  person  to  learn  what  is  the  right  thing,  except 
by  education  and  experience  ?  It  takes  just  as  much  study  and  prac- 
tice to  learn  how  to  live  in  the  woods,  or  nearly  as  much  anyway, 
as  it  does  to  teach  Greek  in  a  college.  I  don't  mean  to  live  in  what 
I  would  call  luxury  and  you  would  think  bare  comfort,  for  there  is 
no  luxury  to  be  had  in  the  woods  except  plenty  of  fresh  air  and 
hard  work;  I  mean  merely  to  live  at  all. 

"  As  to  a  greenhorn's  making  anything  of  trapping  or  hunting, 
he  might  just  as  well  think  of  making  money  mining  in  the  moon. 
You  brought  a  dozen  traps.  How  many  do  you  suppose  I  have? 
Nearly  five  hundred.  I  work  over  those  traps  in  a  way  you  couldn't 
do  to  save  your  lives.  From  the  first  break  of  dawn  until  dusk, 
whether  it  rains  or  shines,  whether  it  is  pleasant  or  whether  the 
thermometer  is  'way  below  zero  and  the  air  filled  with  flying  snow, 
I  am  on  my  trapping-lines,  always  with  forty  or  fifty  pounds  on  my 
back  besides  my  axe.  When  night  comes,  no  matter  how  tired  I 
am,  I  must  make  camp,  cut  wood  enough  to  surely  last  all  night, 
cook,  and  skin  the  animals  I  have  taken  from  my  traps  that  day, 
before  I  sleep.  Often  this  takes  me  till  midnight.  But  whatever 
the  hour  may  be,  I  must  be  off  again  at  daybreak  the  next  morn- 


v. 


'the  thermometer  'way  below  zero  and  the  air  filled  with  flying  snow/ 


THE   TRAPPER'S   COMMENTS.  2<5 

ing.  After  the  trapping  season  fairly  opens,  it  is  only  on  Sundays 
I  can  indulge  in  such  luxuries  as  are  to  be  had  in  my  little  cabin, 
rough  as  you  no  doubt  think  it.  At  other  times  I  lie  on  the  ground 
or  in  the  snow,  thankful  for  even  a  bark  shelter,  half  the  time  wet 


THE   LAST   VIEW   OF   THE    WILDERNESS. 


through,  and  with  but  a  single  blanket  to  cover  me,  and  in  such 
weather  that  any  one  who  did  not  know  just  what  to  do  would  be 
frozen  stiff  as  a  stake  before  morning. 

"  And  how  much  do  you  suppose,  with  all  my  traps,  labor,  and 
experience  I  make  in  a  season?  If  I  get  three  hundred  dollars  for 
mv  fur  1  have  done  well. 


2<6  CITY   BOYS   IN   THE    WOODS. 

"  Nine -tenths  of  the  people  who  come  up  here  as  you  have 
done  have  never  handled  an  axe  in  their  lives.  How  long  do 
you  suppose  it  would  take  such  a  person  to  cut  a  cold  night's 
tire-wood  ?" 

The  boys  looked  at  one  another,  but  preserved  a  discreet 
silence. 

"  They  couldn't  cut  wood  enough  for  one  night  of  such  a  fire  as 
is  necessary  after  the  snow  comes  in  half  a  day.  Watch  a  man  chop 
who  knows  how,  and  it  seems  the  most  simple  thing  in  the  world. 
But  really  it  takes  long  practice.  A  man  who  can't  use  an  axe  well 
is  almost  as  helpless  in  the  woods  as  if  he  had  no  arms  at  all.  Noth- 
ing will  take  its  place.     It  is  absolutely  indispensable. 

"  I  needn't  say  anything  about  how  dangerous  an  axe  is  to  a 
person  who  isn't  used  to  it,  for  I've  told  you  about  that  already. 
But  it  may  be  just  as  well  to  remember  that  an  injury  which  would 
be  trilling  where  help  and  a  doctor  were  handy,  might  be  a  very 
serious  matter  up  here. 

"  Then  think  of  the  risk  of  getting  lost.  A  man  might  wander 
about  here  a  year  and  never  meet  a  living  soul.  A  compass  is  no 
help  unless  you  know  how  to  use  it  in  the  woods,  and  that's  quite 
a  different  tiling  from  using  it  on  the  water." 


The  trapper  was  as  good  as  his  word.  He  satisfied  the  store- 
keeper as  to  his  boat,  took  the  boys  to  the  railroad,  supplied  them 
with  their  tickets  and  saw  them  safely  off  for  home  on  the  train, 
where  they  parted  with  many  a  shake  of  the  hand  and  many  a 
good-by. 

When  the  long  winter  was  over  and  the  trapper  came  once  more 
to  the  settlement  with  the  results  of  his  trapping,  he  found  the 
following  letter  awaiting  him  : 

"Boston,  November  10,  \^- 
"  Mr.  John  Bant : 

"  My  dear  Sir, — We  can  never  thank  you  as  you  deserve  to  be 
thanked  for  your  kindness  to  our  boys  during  their  recent  experi- 
ence in  the  Maine  woods.     Enclosed  please  find  my  check  for  two 


CONCLUSION. 


277 


hundred  and  fifty  dollars  in  return  for  the  money  you  so  kindly 
advanced  them,  and  as  some  slight  acknowledgment  of  our  indebt- 
edness to  you  otherwise.     Mr.  Hildreth  joins  in  the  sentiments  ex- 
pressed in  this  letter,  and  contributes  half  of  the  enclosed. 
"  Yours  truly, 

"  R.  D.  Halstead." 


ip,  - 


,<5V 


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